Correspondence Uninterrupted
by Rawr1983
Summary: A minor change can lead to much greater ones. Harry is able to respond to his Hogwarts letter, leading him along a very different path. Starts with Year One. Now in Year Two.
1. A Mysterious Letter

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP - HP

The thundering steps and taunting voice of Dudley Dursley woke the bespectacled boy from his fitful slumber, but despite the customary obnoxious wake-up, Harry Potter couldn't help but feel happier than he'd been in over a week. Seven days was not the longest he'd been locked in the cupboard beneath the stairs by any means, but it was more than long enough to have Harry yearning for even the 'freedom' of doing the Dursleys' yard work. He still had no explanation for how the glass in the reptile house had vanished the previous week at the zoo, but by now Harry was used to unexplainable occurrences happening in his presence- just as he was used to being punished for them, even though he had nothing to do with them.

He brushed his forever messy hair- yet another point of contention between himself and his so-called family- from his eyes as his aunt unlocked his cupboard. "Mind the eggs, boy," she told him curtly as he emerged.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he replied by rote, knowing that a lack of response would be construed as a lack of manners- and punished, of course. He went about the morning routine of preparing breakfast while his cousin and uncle started on the toast and jam.

"Undercooked the eggs again, boy," his aunt berated, though he noted no complaint as his uncle and cousin tore into them as well as the sausage on their plates. There was already no sign of the toast and jam that had been there just a few minutes prior. "I swear, I don't know why we bother with you."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he replied once more. It was always safest to just agree with his relatives, especially when they were berating him.

Her only reply was a 'hmph' as she doled out a meager bit of bread- not toasted, of course- and egg to his plate. "Hurry up with that. You've got a week's worth of chores to catch up on." Stifling a sigh, Harry quickly ate his food and cleared the table.

"Before you get to the yard, boy, get the post," his uncle added as Harry finished up the dishes. Not wanting to give his uncle any reason to express his displeasure, Harry hurried over to the front door, where the mail had just arrived. He began to quickly sort through it as he started walking back towards the kitchen, before coming to a shocked stop.

_**Mr. H. Potter**_

_**Number 4 Privet Drive**_

_**Little Whinging, Surrey**_

_**The Cupboard Under the Stairs**_

_A letter for __**me**_? Harry thought, his mind still not quite comprehending this simple yet shocking fact.

"Boy, hurry up with the post!" Uncle Vernon's shout shocked him out of his musings. As he took that first step back towards the kitchen, he hesitated for just a brief moment. _If they see this letter, they'll take it away from me_. Harry had never received post before, but there was no doubt in his mind that it would be taken simply because it was for him. _They could never see this letter_. Mind made up, Harry quickly slipped the letter into his cupboard before giving the rest of the mail to his relatives.

HP – HP – HP

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_, Harry read silently to himself for what seemed the hundredth time. As he'd expected, his entire day was consumed with chores for the Dursleys, so Harry didn't have a chance to read his letter until late that night. He almost wished he hadn't. _It's got to be a trick_, he thought, brutally squashing the hope he could feel blooming in his chest. What he wouldn't give to be a wizard- if he could do magic, Harry was sure, he wouldn't have to stay with the Dursleys anymore. Harry wasn't quite sure how this would happen, but his mind raced with the possibilities of what could be. Angrily, he shook his head. Harry had learned his lesson about foolish hopes over the course of ten years in the cupboard with no family coming to claim him. _Besides_, he thought bitterly, _I haven't got an _owl _to respond with, have I_?

HP – HP – HP

Harry's chores continued unabated for several days, but he was no stranger to hard work, and he managed to finish them all within the meager amount of time allotted him by the Dursleys. Every time he would feel his enthusiasm- such as it was- flagging, his mind would drift back to the letter he had carefully tucked under his mattress in his cupboard, and he would angrily redouble his efforts. Physical labor was good for helping him forget the rather cruel trick someone had perpetrated. Still, there was a tiny kernel of hope that Harry held deep inside. After all, magic could explain all the unexplainable things that had happened to Harry over the years. And, it was also true that no one had come forward to mock Harry or in any way follow up on the letter prank. For that matter, Harry had concluded, he couldn't even think of anyone who would try such a thing. Dudley and his friends had very limited patience and intellect- they wouldn't try such a thing, but would rather chase and hit him, and that would be that. The Dursleys, whatever their other faults (and there were many), wouldn't stoop to such a level- they, too, had other ways of inflicting pain.

Harry crawled out from underneath the bush he was pruning, and once again found himself shocked into stillness. Sitting not five feet away was a solitary owl. An owl that appeared to be looking directly at him. And clutched in the owl's proffered claw was a letter that appeared identical to the one he had hidden in his cupboard. It's not a trick was all he could think. Shaking his head to clear it, Harry shakily accepted the letter from the bird. A quick review confirmed that it was indeed the same letter. "Hold on a minute," he said to the owl, immediately feeling foolish for speaking to a bird. Strangely enough, though, the owl remained where it was- thankfully out of sight of the Dursleys, who were absorbed in some program on the telly.

He dashed into the house- quietly, so as not to attract the Dursleys' ire- and scribbled a reply on the letter- _Yes please!_- before returning outside and, with a bit of trepidation, offered it to the owl. It was only after the bird was out of sight that Harry realized that he had no idea how he was supposed to get to this Hogwarts School, nor how he was supposed to get his supplies.

HP – HP – HP

The blessed quiet of Privet Drive was shattered by his uncle's angry shout. "Boy, get in here this instant!" No, Harry thought, anger doesn't quite cover it this time. With no small amount of worry, Harry left the front yard and entered his so-called home, wondering what exactly it was that Uncle Vernon was angry about this time.

The color drained from Harry's face as he saw, clutched in his uncle's beefy, white-knuckled fists, the letter that he had carefully hidden inside of his cupboard.

"Exactly how long have you had... had... _this_," his uncle growled in a low tone. This worried Harry; if his uncle was this angry yet not shouting, it most certainly boded poorly for Harry's immediate future.

"I, er, just a couple of days, Uncle Vernon," Harry stammered in response, hoping to deflect some of his uncle's anger. He knew it was a useless gesture even before his uncle spoke.

"Just a couple of days," Uncle Vernon replied. "A couple of _days_, the boy says. You're not going, boy. I don't care what those... those freaks told you, you're going to Stonewall High and that's final!" Surprisingly, his uncle's response didn't elicit the upset or resignation that Vernon was likely hoping for.

"You knew?" Harry practically shouted. "You knew I was a... a wizard, and you..."

"Of course we knew," his aunt interrupted from behind his uncle. "How could you not be, with your mother and father being the freaks that they were. And then they went and got themselves blown up, if you please, and we were saddled with you. Oh, we knew you'd be just like them, but we hoped that- maybe- we could keep you from doing anything... unnatural."

Harry had stopped listening after his aunt said the words 'blown up.' "You said my parents died in a car crash!" he shouted, no longer caring that this was most certainly going to add to his already tremendous punishment.

"We weren't going to tell you the truth, you foolish boy," Petunia sneered. "There was no way we were going to encourage your freakishness in our home. Vernon and I have graciously allowed you to stay here, but that doesn't mean we're going to permit your... unnaturalness." And with that, his uncle's face took on a manic grin, and he slowly and deliberately tore Harry's letter to shreds.

"You're not going to that ruddy school, boy. You're going to your cupboard, for a very long time." Vernon's horrible expression was the last thing Harry saw for quite some time.

HP – HP – HP

Harry's stay in the cupboard lasted even longer this time than it had since the incident in the reptile house. Since I made the glass disappear, Harry thought. In fact, it seemed as though his relatives might be content to leave him in the cupboard forever. Aside from once a day to use the washroom, Harry hadn't seen the world outside of his cupboard for well over a week. In fact, Harry wouldn't be surprised at all if they left him in there until after his birthday. He idly wondered if perhaps Hogwarts would send someone to see why he didn't turn up come the first of September, or if they would instead just write him off entirely. Harry hoped it would be the former, but rather suspected that the latter would be the case.

He wasn't sure exactly how long had passed before he heard his uncle shout from the front of the house. "You've got the wrong bloody house! There's no Harry Potter here. You can just ruddy well go on your way!" Hope surged in his chest. Someone here, asking after him? Could it be...?

"I am _not_ mistaken, Mr. Dursley, and I would advise you to watch your tone." It was a woman's voice, Harry could tell, Harry could tell, and the words were clipped in such a way that indicated someone trying to hold tight to their temper. It also sounded as though whomever this was, they meant business. Harry faintly heard what sounded like a paper, or perhaps parchment, like the letters he'd received, being unfolded. "Imagine my surprise when Mr. Potter's return letter came to me- written on his school letter, no less- and that school letter was addressed to the 'cupboard under the stairs.' Bring me to Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley. Now."

"Return letter?" his uncle spluttered. "He never sent one. We tore the ruddy thing up!" Vernon seemed to realize he'd perhaps made an error in saying this, as he cut off whatever he was going to say next. Harry took his opportunity.

"I'm in here!" he called, hoping the woman would hear him. BANG! His cupboard door flew open, and Harry, who was pressed up against the door, tumbled out. The woman was standing in the doorway, holding a long, narrow stick in her hand. She was dressed in some sort of emerald dress, but was also wearing what was most definitely a witch's hat. She looked furious.

His uncle, on the other hand, was quite obviously terrified. The man had backed all the way to the kitchen door, and was watching the angry woman they way a person might watch a rabid dog.

"I _never_," she began, "_never_ imagined that..." She paused, collecting herself, as Harry stood up. "Mr. Potter. My name is Professor McGonagall. Your response to your school letter raised some concerns at Hogwarts, so I thought I might come by and see for myself. I had hoped that the letter address was wrong... I see it was not." She pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes at Vernon, who appeared to be about to speak. He did not heed the obvious warning.

"Like I told the boy, he's not going to that bloo-" Mid word, his uncle's voice cut out as the woman's stick jabbed towards him. His uncle's mouth kept moving, but no sound issued forth.

"I warned you to watch your tone, Mr. Dursley. When Mr. Potter and I return this evening, perhaps we will give you another chance to speak more appropriately." She turned towards Harry. "Put on your shoes, Mr. Potter. I will be taking you to Diagon Alley to get your school things presently." She then began walking towards his uncle, who paled and, still obviously trying to speak, backed into the kitchen. "In the meantime, I think I shall have a few words with your family."

Harry quickly readied himself, his excitement easily overriding his worry over how his relatives would react to this intrusion when he and McGonagall returned that evening. His uncle was certainly not the sort to let such an insult go unpunished. He didn't have long to wait before the stern-looking witch passed once more through the kitchen door.

"Ready, Mr. Potter? We will be traveling using a means called 'apparation'. It is not something you will learn until much later, so I'll ask that stay close to me while I bring us to the alley." With those words, she took his arm with hers, and making sure he was staying close, turned.

Harry felt himself squeeze, as though he was being stuffed into a too-small tube. He squeezed his eyes shut until the sensation faded, and when he opened them, his jaw dropped in wonder. He stood in broad street surrounded by all sorts of people garbed similarly to Professor McGonagall- some, in fact, even more garish and outlandish. Stores lined both sides of the busy street, crammed together. Some seemed relatively ordinary, like Madam Malkin's, which appeared to be some sort of clothing store, while others, such as the store labeled Dervish and Banges, were completely out of his realm of experience.

The witch's brow furrowed as she caught him staring at the magic joke shop, before she inexplicably smiled almost fondly. "Welcome, Mr. Potter, to Diagon Alley."


	2. First Steps

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP-HP-HP

"Welcome, Mr. Potter, to Diagon Alley."

Harry could say nothing in response. True, he had accepted the reality of magic quite a bit ago, but now, laying his eyes on the wonder of the wizarding shopping district, was the first time he truly, honestly _believed._ Dozens of robed men and women wandered from store to store, many of them with robed children in tow. A towering, monolithic structure featured prominently in the center of much of the activity, with rather vicious-looking, armored _somethings_ standing guard at its doors. It was to that structure that his escort first led him.

"Gringotts, Mr. Potter," she said in response to his unasked question. "It's the wizard's bank. Mind you, do not show teeth to the goblins- they consider it a great insult," she added as they approached the great doors of the bank. Harry couldn't help but think that the goblins reminded him a bit of Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss- if Piers was heavily armored and armed to the teeth, at least. As they passed through the gateway, Harry noticed a sign nearby.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
>Of what awaits the sin of greed<br>For those who take, but do not earn,  
>Must pay most dearly in their turn.<br>So if you seek beneath our floors  
>A treasure that was never yours,<br>Thief, you have been warned, beware  
>Of finding more than treasure there<em>

He couldn't help but wonder what sort of moron would try to steal from such an obviously well-protected location.

McGonagall led him in through the lobby to the bank teller, a rather fierce-looking goblin. Harry nervously (and toothlessly) smiled at the goblin, whose scowl only seemed to deepen upon glancing at the boy. Harry couldn't help but feel as though he'd been found wanting. "Key," the goblin demanded, haughtily turning away from Harry. McGonagall simply handed over the heavy-looking key to the goblin, who nodded and motioned another of his kind over. "Potter vault, number 687," the teller snarled at the new arrival, who bowed his head without comment.

Harry and McGonagall followed the goblin to a waiting cart. Harry thought he caught a glimpse of... anticipation... on the professor's face as the trio climbed into the cart. For a brief moment, he thought he could see a faint smile on her face, but all thoughts left his head as the cart abruptly rocketed forward. He clung to the cart with all his might, but Harry privately admitted that the too-short trip to his vault was probably the most fun he'd ever had. That thought in turn brought another question to mind.

"Professor, did the goblin say this vault was mine?" Harry asked as they neared the vault door.

McGonagall gave Harry a tight-lipped smile. "Of course, Mr. Potter. You didn't think your parents left you with nothing at all, did you? The Potters were quite well off," she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Until the other day, I thought they were drunks killed in a car crash," he muttered under his breath. Not softly enough, it seemed.

Harry saw McGonagall's face pale, and her lips press so tightly together they nearly vanished altogether. "James and Lily Potter... killed in a muggle accident?" There was no mistaking the fury in her voice. Harry felt a moment of fear, that perhaps she might curse him as she had his uncle. Her features quickly softened. "Oh, Harry, I'm not mad at you. Those... those... _muggles_ had _no _right. None at all! Your parents were two of the bravest, most wonderful people I have ever had the privilege to know, and they died true heroes, protecting you from the worst wizard to have ever lived. The Dursleys are accruing quite a debt," she added in a low voice, almost a growl.

Harry quickly shook his head. "Er, no, that's okay, Professor, really. I don't want there to be any trouble."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes, though Harry realized now that her anger was not directed towards him. "No, Mr. Potter, there won't be any trouble. At least, not for you. Rest assured, though, that things will _not _continue as they have at that house. You have my word on that." Harry found his throat tighten a bit at the unexpected defense and could not express his gratitude, but he could tell that McGonagall understood anyhow. She cleared her throat. "Now, Mr. Potter, for your vault." He turned and saw the goblin waiting with ill-concealed impatience, but his breath caught as he saw the sizable pile of gold coins.

"All of this... is mine?" he said in a voice of wonder.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, all of this is yours. However," she added as his face lit up, "you must be responsible, as this is all you'll have until you come of age." At his accepting nod, her face softened a bit. "That said, I do not think a bit extra for... frivolity, would go amiss." Harry grinned, and scooped a few extra coins into the bag the goblin had provided for him.

HP-HP-HP

The journey back was just as much fun as the journey down, and this time Harry was sure that his escort cracked a smile. Once they left the goblin bank, Harry found himself feeling a bit overwhelmed as he wondered where he should go first. Professor McGonagall made the decision easy.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I think it's time for you to get your wand." Harry eagerly nodded. He couldn't wait to start trying magic.

The pair walked briskly towards a tiny shop further down the alley. _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., _the sign read, and Harry could see a single wand on a dusty purple cushion by means of a window display. Harry followed directly behind McGonagall as they entered the shop. The store itself was as tiny as the front suggested, but behind the counter Harry could see row after row of long, narrow boxes piled atop one another.

"Harry Potter," a quiet voice came from the side of the shop. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. He could have sworn there was no one there a moment ago, but now he could see a very old seeming man with wide, pale eyes staring at him, almost unblinking. "Yes, Harry Potter, I thought I'd be seeing you soon." He glanced then towards Harry's escort. "Minerva McGonagall. Mahogany with dragon heartstring, 16 ½ inches. Excellent with transfiguration." The professor nodded her head in agreement. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. The wand chooses with wizard. Or the witch," he added, with a respectful nod of his head towards McGonagall. "Now then!" he said with an abruptness that made Harry start yet again. "Let's see if we can find your wand, Mr. Potter."

With those words, the master wandmaker went to work. Wands were handed to Harry and plucked from his hands almost too fast for him to react. Some wands he was allowed to keep long enough to give a wave, but even those were invariably taken, too. Harry began to feel an inescapable dread in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps it was too good to be true? Would he be told there was a mistake, that he was not a wizard at all, and dropped back off at the Dursleys without so much as a 'good luck?' In contrast, Ollivander seemed to grow more and more animated as the pile of unmatched wands grew larger. He darted back and forth from shelf to shelf like a hummingbird, and hovered expectantly as each wand touched Harry's hand, before shaking his head and smiling all the more as he took the wand and went to seek out the next. After nearly an hour, though, Ollivander's face suddenly took on a solemn look. "I wonder," he murmured to himself. "I wonder..."

The aged wandmaker darted to the back of the shop, and returned at a more sedate pace, a wand held almost reverently in his open palms. He held it out towards Harry. "Go on, Mr. Potter, give it a try." Harry reached forward, hesitantly at first, but then, as he felt a tingle of warmth in his fingers, he confidently grasped the wand and gave it a wave. Unlike the few other wands he'd been allowed to hold for more than the briefest instant, this one did not cause anything to crash, break, or catch fire. A wondrous warmth filled his arm and suffused his body as a rainbow shower of lights issued forth.

"Curious, very curious," the wandmaker mused. "I think we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter." At Harry's questioning glance, he continued. "Like I said, Mr. Potter, I remember every wand I've ever sold. The phoenix that gave the feather used in your wand gave just one other. That wand is the brother of the one you hold in your hand," he added, pointing a finger at Harry's forehead, "and it was the wand that gave you that scar. You-Know-Who did many great things. Terrible, oh my yes, very terrible, but also great."

HP-HP-HP

A subdued Harry Potter followed his future professor out of the wandmaker's store. He was no longer interested in looking at the joke store, or trying out any of the wizard candy. His excitement dampened, he turned towards McGonagall, questions on his lips, but was forestalled by her holding her hand up. "I know you have questions, Mr. Potter. But, not here. Let's get your the rest of your things, first, and then I shall answer what questions I can." He nodded his acceptance.

The rest of the trip was a much quieter affair. McGonagall mentioned something about a glamour, but Harry was too distracted to notice. Harry passively allowed himself to be fitted for robes, which went by quite quickly as there was only one other customer, a slightly round boy with blond hair who seemed too afraid to speak to Harry. This was just as well, as Harry didn't think that he could carry on any meaningful conversations until his questions were answered.

His visit to Flourish and Blotts also went by quickly. They picked up the basics without issue, as the store had placed all of the necessary books for incoming Hogwarts students accessibly, but McGonagall convinced him to pick up a few other books as well. He had briefly stared in shock at a book titled 'The Early Adventures of Harry Potter," but a quelling look from McGonagall quieted him before he could say anything about it.

Before long, Harry found himself once more on Privet Drive, thankfully not overburdened with supplies courtesy of a shrinking charm cast by McGonagall. As they neared number four, she stopped, and drew her wand, waving it around the pair of them in an elaborate, sweeping gesture. "I believe you have questions, Mr. Potter," she said simply, the look on her face showing that she was preparing herself for a rather difficult conversation.

Harry nodded, and quickly went over what he already knew, and what he wanted to know, before settling on his first question. "You said that my parents were... were murdered by some sort of evil wizard. And, uh, Mr. Ollivander said that someone called You-Know-Who gave me my scar. I want to know what happened... what really happened."

McGonagall just nodded, somehow not surprised at Harry's first question. "Very well, Mr. Potter, you have a right to know." She took a deep breath. "Your parents were murdered, Harry, by the darkest wizard to have ever lived. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... even now, we do not speak the name. No one knows for sure why he came to your home that night, but I suspect that he wanted to make an end of your parents. I told you they were some of the bravest people I've ever known. They were among the very few to stand against him. They fought him and survived on several occasions." She looked past Harry, obviously lost in the memories. "He shouldn't have been able to find them at all. A charm hid their location from all but a select few, but your father's closest friend, Sirius Black-" she spat the name like a curse- "betrayed them. And yet..." she looked at Harry, now, a look of almost wonder on her face, "yet even though he killed your parents, his power broke when he tried to kill you."

"Why..." he began, but she cut him off.

"No one knows, Harry. It could be that there was some sort of magic that your parents placed upon you before they died, or perhaps your parents managed to injure him sufficiently that he lacked the strength to finish what he had started. Regardless, you are the only one to have ever survived Him in such a manner. It's why they call you the Boy-Who-Lived. And that's why I put the glamour on you when we were in the Alley. I did not think it would do for you to be mobbed on your first day back in our world." Harry felt another swell of gratitude towards the witch who had already done so much for him.

"Now," she continued, "do you have any other questions before we see to your... the Dursleys," she said with distaste. Harry shook his head, still absorbing all that she had told him about his parents. "Good. Now, before we go in, there are a few more things I wish to tell you. First, you must understand that being a wizard is not as simple as merely waving your wand and expecting things to happen. If you have even part of your parents' talent you may consider yourself to be greatly blessed, but talent without hard work will avail you little." Harry nodded as she continued. "Lily especially would never forgive me- or you- if you were anything less than a diligent student, so I expect you to work and study hard." Harry nodded again, and McGonagall seemed satisfied. "Good. Now, when we go into the house, you are to wait by the door while I deal with your relatives. Rest assured that their treatment of you will _not _continue." Harry couldn't help but smile a bit at that. It might not be the family coming to rescue him that he had dreamed of when he was little, but it was enough.

HP-HP-HP

Harry was never quite sure what transpired between McGonagall and the Dursleys, but before the day was through, he was moved to Dudley's second bedroom, and Dudley seemed to protest not a whit. Likewise, he found that his chores had been reduced to an almost reasonable level. This was especially good given that he had decided to take McGonagall's admonishment to heart, and spent all of his free time reading through his school books and trying to learn some of the spells. To his regret, he found that doing things like turning his small cot into a large bed or his cousin into a barnyard animal were feats that were years beyond him. However, he found that with a bit of hard work and practice he could make several of the beginner spells work properly. Through his reading he realized that after this summer, he wouldn't be allowed to use magic at home, and resolved to ensure the Dursleys never, ever found out. However, there seemed to be no such restriction on the time prior to starting Hogwarts, so he resolved to make the most of it.

He also read through his history book, trying to find out more about this You-Know-Who that had killed his parents. No where that he could find was the name printed, and he resolved to find out as soon as possible. Harry refused to give his parents' murderer the respect that being afraid to speak his name would imply, vanquished or no.

HP-HP-HP

Like Harry, Professor McGonagall was hard at work as soon as her chat with the Dursleys was over with. She felt quite sure that she had made her point very clear, but just to be sure, she'd spent several days watching over the Dursley residence from underneath a nearby brush to ensure that her mandates were obeyed. She doubted that anyone noticed the tabby, especially as she was being quite still. McGonagall also made sure to pay a visit to Dumbledore. He was, after all, responsible for placing Harry with the Dursleys- despite her advice that the Dursleys would not be an appropriate family for him. Sometimes, she hated being right.

As expected, Dumbledore was in his office, likely preparing for the coming year. And as always, he knew who was there and when, as they door opened before she could reach out and knock. "Come in, Minerva," he said kindly, smiling. "I trust that nothing was amiss with Mr. Potter? You seemed quite distressed when you left yesterday."

She shook her head. "No, Albus, it is more accurate to say that _everything _was amiss with Mr. Potter. Or, more specifically, with the Dursleys." Again, she spoke the word as if it were a curse.

"I see," he said, sounding severe. "I understand that they may not have been the most loving of guardians, but surely there was nothing too egregious?" His tone sounded hopeful, but McGonagall was in no mood to gently disabuse him. She simply placed his acceptance letter on Dumbledore's desk and motioned for him to read it.

"The cupboard under the stairs," he read aloud. "I see. There is no mistake... no, you would not be this upset if this address was in error." He sighed, sounding every bit his well-over a hundred years of age.

"He cannot stay in that place, Albus," she said, trusting that her point had been made. "There are many families who would gladly take in the Boy-Who-Lived."

But Dumbledore shook his head. "I wish it could be so, Minerva, more so now than ever. But what family could protect him? I have placed very powerful wards upon the Dursley home, wards that will only function so long as Harry can call that place home. If he were to go elsewhere, those wards would fail and Harry would be left vulnerable."

"And is it worth sacrificing his happiness? Albus, the boy lived in a cupboard for _ten years_. He did more work for those _people _than any three house elves. I put a stop to both, but who can say what other harm might befall him at their hands in the meantime?"

Dumbledore sighed yet again. "And what would you have me do, Minerva? I could ask the Weasleys to take him in- they would do so gladly, I am sure. And Lucius Malfoy would just as gladly use his support in the Wizengamot to have Harry wrested from them and placed with what he deems 'proper' wizards, and you and I both know what that would mean for young Harry."

"What of Augusta Longbottom?"  
>"She has her hands full with young Neville. And that unfortunate young man's own history should tell you of the importance of keeping Harry Potter safe. Voldemort," he paused as McGonagall shuddered at the name, "still has many active supporters who would gladly see Harry become the Boy-Who-Lived-No-More. Harry must stay where he is, at least for the time being."<p>

McGonagall could only nod unhappily.

"That said," he continued, looking somewhat less like the kindly old headmaster that most everyone in the wizarding world knew, and somewhat more like the dangerous and powerful man who defeated Grindelwald, "I think I might pay my own visit to the Dursleys."


	3. The Color Yellow

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

It was several days before Albus Dumbledore could free up the time needed to pay a visit to the last remaining kin of Harry Potter. Privet Drive was much as he had remembered. House after identical house lined identically manicured lawns, with identical driveways and quite nearly identical cars parked in them. He had briefly considered 'going muggle' for this trip, but ultimately decided that, based on what McGonagall told him, he should like to cause the Dursleys just a bit more discomfort at his presence. He strode purposefully up the street, unconcerned as to whether or not any of the Dursleys' neighbors would still be up at such a late hour. Finally, he reached his destination and knocked, politely but firmly, on the door.

"Boy, get the door!" he could hear shouted from within. His mouth turned to a slight frown, and he began to realize that the likelihood that his colleague had been mistaken was even smaller than he'd thought. The door opened, revealing a boy that seemed a fair bit too small to be 11 years of age. As expected, though, he appeared to be a too-small version of his father, but with...

"You have your mother's eyes," he said with a slight smile. "Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I was hoping I might have a talk with your aunt and uncle." The boy, who was already smiling slightly, seemed even more pleased, and with a look that was most definitely reminiscent of his father, motioned for the headmaster to enter.

"It's for you, Uncle Vernon!" he called towards the living room.

"You are more than welcome to join us, Harry, should you wish to," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "Our discussion does, after all, concern you." The young man nodded, still smiling, as he preceded Dumbledore into the living room.

"Who in the world would be calling at this- _you!_" Petunia Dursley shrieked as Dumbledore came through into the living room. Vernon Dursley was not to be outdone, though.

"Get out of our house!" he shouted as soon as he caught sight of the old headmaster. "We don't want _your _kind around here! You're not welcome. Go!" his shouts increased in volume and pitch as he ranted, while Dumbledore smiled benignly.

"I hope you don't mind if I make my own seat," Dumbledore began as though he couldn't hear the Dursleys' complaints. With a swish of his wand, a squishy, comfortable chair in the most eye searing shades of green and purple appeared in the Dursleys' living room, and, after a glance at Harry, Dumbledore waved his wand again, creating an identical chair for the young man, though in a brilliant shade of red instead.

Vernon's face took on a particularly bright shade of purple not unlike that of Dumbledore's new chair, but before he could start shouting again, Dumbledore interrupted him. "Please, have a seat." With a wave of his hand, Vernon and Petunia found themselves seated on their couch. Dumbledore smiled kindly at them. "Excellent. Now, I believe it is past time that we have a bit of a discussion concerning young Mr. Potter here."  
>"We never wanted him," Petunia blurted out. "We took him, but we never wanted him. His unnatural, freakish ways, who knew what... what <em>things <em>he could do to our poor Dudders." She shuddered at the mere mention of it, despite the knowledge that her beloved son was far away that evening, having earlier obtained permission to spend the night with the Polkisses. She failed to notice the darkening of Dumbledore's normally genial features.

"Nonetheless, you accepted him, however grudgingly, and took responsibility for him. I suppose we should all be grateful that you did not treat him as your own son, much as I had hoped you would when I first brought him to you." To the side, Dumbledore could see Harry's head come up in shock. "Thankfully, he has avoided the appalling damage you have caused to your own son."

"We would never hurt our Dudley!" Petunia protested.

Dumbledore again continued as though she hadn't spoken. "That being said, while I understand that you lack the capacity to love young Harry as though he were your own son-" the Dursleys looked quite disgusted at the thought- "but know that I will not stand idly by as you mistreat him." At their uncomfortable looks, Dumbledore frowned severely. "The cupboard situation has been remedied, as I understand it. However, you will in _no _way ever lay a hand on him again." Dumbledore allowed a bit of his power to show- just enough to be palpable to the Dursleys- before continuing. "Harry is to be allowed to study and learn as he needs."

As expected, the Dursleys objected strenuously to the last part. "I will _not _have that... that freakishness in my house!" Vernon shouted.

"And have frog spawn and awful things crawling about?" Petunia added in a shrill voice.

"I believe Mr. Potter can keep his studies confined to his room, so long as you afford him the freedom to do so." Harry nodded hopefully.

After a long moment, the mutinous look faded somewhat from Vernon's face. "Fine. Fine! But one peep, one _little _thing out of the ordinary, and out he goes!"

"Then we are in agreement. I trust then that there will be no further need for me to pay you such a visit? My schedule is quite busy, you see, and so if I were to have to come again, I dare say it would have to be during the day..." Dumbledore trailed off, letting the threat hang in the silence.

Both Dursleys visibly shuddered, and quickly offered their assurances, obviously horrified at the thought of such an un-Dursleyish person being seen anywhere near them.

Dumbledore nodded, and stood, motioning for Harry to join him. A swish of his wand dismissed both chairs, and the two walked to the front of the house. "A word, please, Harry, before I go."

"Er, yes, sir?"

"I am putting a great deal of trust in you, young man. I am confident that you will not abuse it?"

Harry nodded. "No sir. I won't bother them if they don't bother me... not even to turn Dudley into a pig." Dumbledore smiled.

"There's a good lad. Now, I'm afraid I must go tend to matters at Hogwarts, but before I go... I'm afraid that I owe you a great apology. I had hoped that the Dursleys would treat you with the kindness and respect that you deserve, though I feared that that might be too much to ask. However, I never imagined that they would go to such lengths..."

"Er, Mr. Dumbledore... Headmaster, I mean, why _did _you put me here?"

"Alas, Harry, I cannot tell you everything, but I believe it would not hurt to share some of the story with you now. Professor McGonagall told you what happened to your parents, I trust...?" Harry nodded. "Your mother placed a very powerful protection upon you- protection that I was able to use to put some very powerful wards on this home. Those wards are dependent on the blood you share with your mother- and your aunt." Harry made a face of distaste. "Regardless of how you might feel, Harry, she is your family, and related to you through your mother. So long as you can call this place home, you are protected from any who would seek to come here and cause you harm. That protection extends to your family as well."

"Professor McGonagall mentioned that... that the wizard who killed my parents..."

"Voldemort, Harry. He is called Lord Voldemort."

Harry nodded, pleased to finally have a name besides 'You-Know-Who.' "Voldemort. She said that he wanted to kill my parents, but she didn't know why."  
>"Alas, Harry, I'm afraid that I cannot in good conscience burden you with such knowledge at this time."<p>

Harry looked mutinous. "But sir, don't I have a right to know? He killed my parents... tried to kill me. And why didn't it work? Professor McGonagall told me that Voldemort had never failed to... to kill anyone before. Before me."  
>"I believe that part of the reason Voldemort failed to do what he had done so many other times before was your mother's sacrifice. Love, Harry. She loved you so much that she gave her life for you- and love is perhaps the most powerful force in the world, beyond any mere magic we may learn. Now, Harry, the hour grows late, and I am sure it is well past the time a young man such as yourself should be getting to bed. Farewell... and I will see you on September 1st."<p>

Harry felt that he still had more questions than answers at this point, but nodded. "Good night, professor, and thank you." With a loud 'pop', the headmaster vanished from number four.

HP-HP-HP

After the headmaster's visit, the Dursleys seemed to go out of their way to avoid him, and Harry was more than happy to return the favor. They seemed too afraid to continue assigning him chores, but mindful of the promise he gave the headmaster not to take advantage of the Dursleys, he continued to do the work that had been assigned after McGonagall's visit. Even with those chores, though, Harry had plenty of time to peruse his school books. He wished that he had a way to return to Diagon Alley on his own, as there were some things hinted at in some of his books that he wanted to know more about, but all he knew was that it was located somewhere in London. He didn't even know if there was a way to get there outside of wizarding travel.

On his birthday, Harry was pleasantly surprised when several owls came to his window, dropping off small packages. Harry found his eyes growing a bit watery, as he'd never had anything resembling a proper birthday before. He dutifully scribbled off notes of thanks and gave them to the waiting owls, and turned to open the gifts. Though they were few in number, Harry felt like he was the luckiest boy alive before he even began to open them.

The first was from Professor McGonagall, and it contained a note that said that she had mentioned to the staff at Hogwarts that he might appreciate a small gift if they were of a mind to send something. Harry was grateful both for the gesture, and the fact that she apparently did not mention that he hadn't had a proper birthday before.

After reading the thoughtful note, Harry opened the gift from McGonagall, and found several pieces of clothes, both muggle and wizarding. Two of the other gifts were similar, ensuring that Harry had enough clothes that he wouldn't have to wear Dudley's old cast-offs any longer. Someone named Professor Flitwick had sent him a book on magical jokes, and in his note he asked that if Harry used them at school that he not mention where he got them.

Harry also received a wand maintenance kit and several other books, some of which were about topics he'd hoped to learn more about. The last gift was a bit of a mystery, though. It was a note, written in rather sloppy handwriting, that simply said, 'I hope you like her. From, Hagrid.' Along with the note was a mid-sized cage and a bag of some sort of pellets.

"Huh," Harry said to himself, as he put the note aside. He wasn't entirely sure what that was about, but even without the mystery gift, Harry decided that it was the best birthday he'd ever had.

He woke the next morning to a loud tapping on his window. Groaning, he got out of bed and opened the window. Outside was one of the owls that had come the night before, a beautiful snowy white owl that strangely had no letter or package with her. With the window open, she flew inside, landing on his desk and hooting softly at him.

"Er, not to be rude, but, uh, what are you doing here?" he said, not feeling quite as strange for talking to a bird as he did when he met his first post owl. He knew better than to underestimate their intelligence, now.

The owl seemed to look at him reproachfully, then flew to the still-closed cage, tapping on the door with its beak. "Oh!" Harry said, feeling a bit embarrassed. He opened the cage door and took out the bag of pellets, offering the owl one. "I see... so you're to stay with me, then?" he asked, rhetorically.

The owl hooted once more and ate the pellet before hopping into the cage, stuffing her head under her wing. Harry just grinned and once more decided that this had been his best birthday ever.

HP-HP-HP

The weeks leading up to September 1st seemed to pass at a crawl, but eventually, Harry found himself standing between platforms 9 and 10 at King's Cross. He'd exchanged a few letters with some of the professors, as he didn't really have any proper friends to speak with, so he had some idea of what to expect- and what to study- in the coming year. He also was able to find out how to get onto platform 9 ¾, but at the last minute, decided to wait for a few minutes before going through the barrier. After all, he reasoned, there might be others who, like him, only just learned about the magical world and didn't know how to get to the train.

His concern turned out to be unfounded, and he went through the barrier just ahead of a rather large group of redheads shortly before it was time for the train to depart. He found an empty cabin easily enough, and settled in with the book that Professor Flitwick had sent him.

Shortly after the train began to move, the door to his cabin opened and one of the redheads from the platform stuck his head in. "Er, hi there. Everywhere else is full. Do you mind if I...?" Harry nodded his assent. "Great, thanks," he said in obvious relief as he stowed his things. "I'm Ron Weasley," he said, offering his hand.

"Harry Potter," Harry responded. He winced a bit as Ron's eyes widened, and saw the red-haired boy's eyes flick up towards Harry's scar, which was currently hidden by his hair.

"Are you really? And you have the..." he motioned towards Harry's forehead. Harry sighed, and moved his hair so that the boy could get his gawking out of the way. He felt immensely grateful that Professor McGonagall had warned him that this might happen.

"Wicked... and that's where You-Know-Who...?"

"Voldemort," Harry said firmly, cutting the boy off. The boy jerked in his seat, looking fearful.

"Don't say it! Well... I guess I can see why _you _might, but still..." Ron shuddered again.

"It's just a name, and he's gone anyway." Harry sighed, looking back down at his book.

"Are you reading? Why? You don't think we have to take an exam to get sorted, do you? My brothers mentioned that we have to wrestle a troll, but..."

"Er, sorted?" Harry had gotten a book called _Hogwarts, a History_ but hadn't had a chance to read it yet. He was much more interested in the books on magic, though belatedly he realized that it might have been a good idea to at least skim through the book about the school he would, after all, be attending for the next seven years.

"Yeah, all first years have to get sorted, don't they? You know, the four houses?" Harry gave him a blank look. "Well, okay, then. There's Gryffindor. That's the best house, it's where all the really brave people go. My whole family's been in there, and I really hope to make it, too. Ravenclaw's for all the people who don't do anything but study, Slytherin is where the dark wizards go, and Hufflepuff is for all the ones who can't make the other three houses." Harry frowned. It sounded like the only two good houses were Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Now he knew what the professors he'd written to meant when they were talking about being head of those two houses. He idly wondered if he'd also unknowingly written to the heads of the other two houses.

"I don't know what house I'll be in," Harry said glumly.

"Oh, you'll be Gryffindor for sure. I mean, you beat You-Know-Who, right? Where else could you go?" The boy laughed, and Harry felt a bit relieved. The two continued chatting amiably for awhile, and when the candy trolley came by, Harry resolved to make up for missing out while he was in Diagon Alley, and bought far more than he could possibly eat in one go. At Ron's frown towards a pair of wrapped sandwiches, Harry shared some of his candy with the boy.

After the candy was duly eaten (and the sandwiches properly forgotten), Harry started asking Ron more about Hogwarts. Sadly, Ron didn't seem to know much more than Harry did, though he shared a few stories about his older brothers' exploits. "Fred and George showed me a spell, but I haven't tried it yet." He pulled out his rather worn looking wand, and was about to cast, when the door banged open and a girl with rather bushy hair burst in.

"You haven't seen a toad, have you? Neville's lost his." At the boys shaken heads, she took note of Ron's wand. "Oh, are you going to do magic? Let's see then. I've only tried a few spells so far, but they've all worked for me."

Ron looked rather put out at the rapidly-speaking girl's presence, but grudgingly gave his wand a wave. "Sunshine, daisies, butter yellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!" He then prodded the rat with the wand, causing the previously sleeping animal to squeak in alarm and burrow into Ron's jacket.

"Well, that's not very good, is it," she began, and Harry sighed loudly. She turned to face him. "Oh, do you think you can do better then?" Harry frowned, not really wanting to meet the demanding girl's request, before he smiled and nodded. "All right then, let's see," she said, taking on a superior look, obviously waiting for him to fail.

"_Multicorfors," _he incanted, prodding his wand in a similar motion as Ron had, though towards the girl instead of the rat. He smiled at the girl's look of triumph and condescension, but nearly lost it as he saw Ron stuff his fist into his mouth to hold back his laughter. "Well, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to get it right," she said before leaving the compartment. Ron's previously restrained laughter erupted into full guffaws as the now bright yellow haired girl shut the door.

"Hah! Yellow! That's brilliant, mate, really it-" Ron was cut off as yet another person pulled the door open to the cabin.

"I heard Harry Potter was in this cabin," a pale, blond haired boy stated imperiously. Ron's laughter immediately caught his attention, though. "No need to ask who _you _are. Shabby clothes, red hair, it's obvious that you're a Weasley." Ron's laughter immediately stopped, and his face turned red with anger rather than humor.

"I think you should go," Harry said, his wand still out.

"Oh, and what if we want to stay? There's three of us and two of you," the boy said with a haughty look on his face. Before he could say anything further, though, the bossy girl came back, pushing her way past the two gorilla-like boys that had accompanied the pale boy.

"Ooh, I can't believe you did that!" she started, before realizing exactly what she'd walked into. "Are you fighting? You'll be expelled before school even starts!"

"Potter," the blond boy began, trying to ignore the girl, "you'll find that some families are better than others." He gave Ron a disdainful look. "I can help you avoid the _wrong_ sort of people."

"You can do that by leaving," Harry said dismissively.

The boy's colorless cheeks pinked in anger. "You'd best watch your tongue, Potter. Your parents didn't know what was good for them, either, and they- urk."

The boy cut off as Harry, furious, lunged forward, putting his wand directly between the boy's eyes. "One. More. Word."

"No, no, you'll be expelled," the girl pleaded, but thankfully, they felt the train begin to slow, and the blond boy took the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat. "What were you _thinking_, you can't just go around threatening people, they'll snap your wand and you haven't even started school, and-" Harry cut her off.

"Er, unless you want to watch us change into our robes..." The girl's cheeks turned pink, and she too fled the compartment.

"Nice, mate, but you should be careful. I think that was a Malfoy, his dad's really big at the ministry. Not that it wasn't funny..." he said, laughing once more as the two quickly changed into their school robes.

HP-HP-HP

"Firs' years, firs' years over here!" a loud voice bellowed as Ron and Harry got off the train. Turning, Harry could quite clearly see the origin of the voice. The man was, quite frankly, too big to be allowed. Wild hair covered most of his face, nearly concealing beetle-like eyes that glinted in the dim light. "Firs' years over here!" he called again. The huge man, who would have been terrifying had he not been so obviously friendly, beamed as he set eyes on Harry.

"Harry Potter! I haven't seen you in ten years! You were jus' a tiny little thing, last I saw you." And inexplicably, the huge man gave Harry a rather uncomfortable hug, and sniffled. "Look just like yer dad, you do, 'cept the eyes. They're definitely yer mum's." He then blew his nose, loudly, on a handkerchief, and gave Harry a watery smile. "Oh! Did you get yer gift? I hope you gave her a proper name!"

"You're Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, happy to be able to put a face to the name of the person who'd given him his favorite gift.

"Tha's me. Keeper of the Keys an' all that. C'mon, I've got ter take you lot to Hogwarts," the man added, and raised his voice. "Firs' years here, no more'n four to a boat!"

Harry and Ron found themselves in a boat with pair of very pretty, dark-skinned and dark-haired twins, who both kept glancing at Harry and giggling, but otherwise said nothing as the boats moved forward seemingly under their own power.

Harry knew, as he set eyes on Hogwarts for the first time, that he would never, ever forget this day.

The first years all 'oohed' and 'aahed' as the boats brought them into sight of the majestic castle. Hogwarts seemed as imposing as it was welcoming, and Harry found himself feeling inexplicably reassured by the seeming contradiction. As the boats stopped and the first years made their way up the steps to where Professor McGonagall was waiting, a boy's shout of "Trevor!" broke the mood. The blond boy, who Harry faintly recognized, darted forward and picked up a loudly protesting toad under McGonagall's withering gaze.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began once she had the group's attention properly. "In a few minutes you will be brought inside the castle where you will be sorted. The house in which you will spend the next seven years will be like your family. Doing well in your classes and behaving will earn your house points, while rule-breaking will lose points. I hope that each and every one of you will be a credit to whichever house you join."

As McGonagall led them into the castle, Harry could see the no-longer yellow-haired bossy girl muttering under her breath, while the blond boy near her seemed to be absolutely terrified. He wasn't the only one, though, as several of the other first years seemed at the very least unsure of themselves as they made their way past a dozen suits of inanimate armor. Harry blinked and turned his head sharply. Did one of them just move? Unconsciously, Harry moved just a little bit closer to the rest of the group.

McGonagall brought them to a room just off the Great Hall and gave them a moment to straighten themselves up a bit, before leading them out.

Most of the students at the tables turned to look at the first years as they entered, some of them seeming to look for something in particular. Harry never got a chance to wonder what it was, though, as a ratty looking hat sitting on a stool in the middle of the hall abruptly seemed to tear open, and began to sing.

_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
>But don't judge on what you see,<br>I'll eat myself if you can find  
>A smarter hat than me.<em>

_You can keep your bowlers black,_  
><em>Your top hats sleek and tall,<em>  
><em>For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat<em>  
><em>And I can cap them all.<em>

_There's nothing hidden in your head_  
><em>The Sorting Hat can't see,<em>  
><em>So try me on and I will tell you<em>  
><em>Where you ought to be.<em>

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
><em>Where dwell the brave at heart,<em>  
><em>Their daring, nerve, and chivalry<em>  
><em>Set Gryffindors apart;<em>

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
><em>Where they are just and loyal,<em>  
><em>Those patient Hufflepuffs are true<em>  
><em>And unafraid of toil;<em>

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
><em>if you've a ready mind,<em>  
><em>Where those of wit and learning,<em>  
><em>Will always find their kind;<em>

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
><em>You'll make your real friends,<em>  
><em>Those cunning folks use any means<em>  
><em>To achieve their ends.<em>

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
><em>And don't get in a flap!<em>  
><em>You're in safe hands (though I have none)<em>  
><em>For I'm a Thinking Cap!<em>

((Taken directly from The Philosopher's Stone))

The Sorting Hat's song reassured Harry. For one thing, the sorting didn't sound nearly as bad as everyone seemed to be making it out to be. For another, Harry felt a bit reassured that all of the houses, even Slytherin and Hufflepuff, didn't sound bad at all. There was, after all, nothing wrong with ambition or loyalty.

"Abbott, Hannah!" McGonagall called out as the applause for the hat's song died down. A tiny looking, pink-faced girl with blond pigtails nervously approached the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall put the hat on the girl's head, and several silent moments later, a large tear opened and shouted "Hufflepuff!"

Harry noted with some amusement that the bossy girl from a train, a Hermione Granger, was sorted into Gryffindor. Given his admittedly limited knowledge of the houses, she seemed like she'd be a good fit for Ravenclaw. The blond haired boy who had confronted him on the train wound up in Slytherin with his two friends, while the other one who'd lost his toad became a Gryffindor.

"Potter, Harry!" Silence, immediately followed by whispers and pointing, accompanied McGonagall's call. Harry nervously approached and sat in the stool, and the hat was placed upon his head. He started as he suddenly heard a voice in his head.

"_Well, well, what have we here. Harry Potter, hmm? A fine mind, oh my, yes, and definitely a thirst to prove yourself. It's all here in your head. Hrm. Yes, let's see... such bravery, too, and loyalty. You're a difficult one, aren't you," _the hat mused. Harry felt himself growing a bit uncomfortable as his sorting continued. He was acutely aware that it was already longer than anyone else's had been. _"Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I have never failed to place a student yet. Your parents were in Gryffindor, you know, they were very brave and very talented. But where to put you..."  
>I could go to Gryffindor like my parents,<em> Harry thought.

"_Gryffindor, eh? You could do well there. But... I don't think that's the best place for you. Slytherin, maybe? No, no," _the hat continued before Harry could consider objecting, _"You want to prove yourself, yes, but that is not what defines you. You have a keen mind, and... yes, I see it now."_

Harry waited with bated breath, wondering where the hat was going to place him.

"_Loyalty and fairness are most certainly your strongest traits, Harry Potter, so there's only one place for you to go."_

"Hufflepuff!"


	4. A Good Turn and a Wrong Turn

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

As Harry removed the hat from his head, he noticed that the table for the house of the loyal was cheering and clapping loudly, but the other three seemed rather shocked. More than one student at the Slytherin table was laughing, while some Ravenclaw students were clapping politely. The Gryffindor students, one and all, though, seemed completely taken aback. Harry walked over to his table, sitting next to the blond girl that had been sorted first (Hannah, he thought her name was), and a curly haired boy who grinned at him as he sat down.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley, nice to meet you!" he exclaimed before Harry could even sit down.

Harry found he rather liked the boy's enthusiasm. "Harry Potter," he began, waiting for the boy to look at his scar and be done with it. He was rather surprised when the expected glance never happened.

"Yeah, I heard," he laughed, then clapped politely as the next student was sorted.

Harry was about to respond when he heard an indignant squawk from the blond haired girl to his right. Harry glanced that direction and saw a tall, blond haired boy shoving the girl over. "You're Harry Potter," the boy stated as he sat next to Harry, taking the spot the girl had been sitting in a moment ago. He took a long look at Harry's scar- much to Harry's irritation- before holding out his hand. "Zacharias Smith. I'm one of the last descendants of Helga Hufflepuff herself. You might say I was destined to be here," he intoned, sounding very much as though he was declaring from on high rather than attempting to hold a conversation.

Harry snickered as a stout-looking boy with sandy hair rolled his eyes. "Smith," Harry began, "that was pretty rude, pushing that girl out of the way like that." As he responded, Harry noted absently that the boy he had shared a compartment on the train with, Ron Weasley, was sorted to Gryffindor.

Smith's face darkened in anger, but before he could respond, the headmaster stood, raising a hand to gather the attention of the assembled students. Silence fell instantly.

"Allow me to welcome all of you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we tuck in to the wonderful feast that has been prepared for us, there are a few start of term announcements. First, understand that the Forbidden Forest is just that- forbidden. A few of our older students would do well to remember this as well," he added, with a pointed look at the Gryffindor table. The list of banned objects now includes some two hundred and seventeen items, and can be viewed in its entirety in Mr. Filch's office. Finally, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to any who do not wish for a most painful death." Harry laughed at this, but was one of the few who did. An older, good looking boy who might have been in his third or fourth year was sitting a few seats down, and frowned at Harry and the sandy-haired boy, who had also laughed.

"I don't think he has kidding," he said, sternly. Harry's laughter died, as did the other boy's. Harry turned his attention back towards the headmaster, and as he did, he caught the gaze of a sallow, dark-haired man with a large, hooked nose seated at the professor's table next to a professor wearing a bright turban. Harry felt a brief, burning sensation in his scar and shook his head. As he did so, the burning subsided, but Harry didn't think he would forget the look of pure loathing directed at him by the hook-nosed professor. The boy across from him gave him a questioning look, but Harry shook his head.

"And lastly, a few final words to share with you. Nitwick! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" With those words, the headmaster clapped his hands, and piles of food appeared on the table.

Harry, never having seen this much food in his life, just stared for a moment as the other students started putting food on their plates. Much of the food was familiar, such as the roasts and other meat dishes (though even many of those had oddities, such as sauces that changed colors), but others were completely foreign to him. Finally, he decided to put mostly food that he knew he liked on his plate, adding a few of the unfamiliar things to try afterwards. Justin Finch-Fletchley grinned at him, having had a similar idea himself. He also poured himself a nice full goblet of orange juice, relieved that that much at least was normal. Harry grinned back at the other boy and took a long taste of his orange juice- and nearly spat it back out again.

"Pumpkin juice, nothing quite like it!" the boy across from him said as he took a drink from his own cup. It certainly wasn't bad, Harry decided, but was quite a shock when Harry was expecting orange juice! "Ernie Macmillan, by the way," the boy said, extending his hand across the table. "And let me just say that it is quite an honor to be in Hufflepuff with you," he added, a bit pompously, but with none of the rudeness or assumption of Zacharias Smith, who looked quite sullen at being ignored.

Harry accepted his hand, smothing a twinge of annoyance as the boy glanced up to see his scar. "Nice to meet you, Ernie. I, uh, didn't really know anything about the houses before I came here, but this one seems pretty nice, for the most part, I guess."

"Neither did I," Justin added. "I was down for Eton when my letter came. I couldn't believe that I was a wizard, but I couldn't pass up the chance to come here instead."

The blond haired girl to Harry's right- who had apparently gotten her seat back, as Zacharias Smith was now sitting several places down, glowering in Harry's direction, looked at him, apparently confused. "But, I thought you'd know all about the houses and Hogwarts and everything? I mean, after you saved the school and all..." Harry gave her a blank look, and the girl's pink cheeks turned even more red. "It was in _The Early Adventures of Harry Potter_, how you single-handedly stopped an invasion of vampires..." she trailed off, as the other boys around Harry were also staring at her.

"Er, anyhow," Harry began, trying to awkwardly change the subject, "I'm really looking forward to classes. I looked at my books a bit, but there were some things I couldn't even try out at home, like potions." Ernie and Hannah both looked as though they'd bitten a lemon at that statement. "What?"

"I've got a cousin who's a few years out of Hogwarts," Ernie began. "He says that Professor Snape- that's the potions professor, but he's also head of Slytherin- strongly favors his own house. He's also known to be a bit harsh with the other three houses, especially Gryffindor. Guess we're lucky not to be there, yeah?"

"I hear that he poisons some of his students to test their antidotes," Hannah added, and it was a testament to just how bad of a light rumor painted the professor in that no one even batted an eye at that claim.

There was no more conversation after that, and the students found themselves comfortably full and on their way to their common room. The house prefects led them down into the basement, and Harry thought he caught a whiff of the feast before they stopped before a portrait. "Perseverance," the prefect stated, and the portrait swung open, revealing a large round room with a low-ceiling, and comfortable-looking couches scattered about. "That's the password to get into the common room," the prefect said as he led the first-years in. "Make sure you don't forget it, or let the other houses know. The other houses- especially Gryffindor- have a lot of pranks, and we don't want them to get in here." He motioned for the first years to have a seat on the couches- Harry wound up between Ernie and a red-haired girl that he didn't yet know- as the other fifth year prefect followed the group in and let the portrait hole close.

"Professor Sprout will be down here in a moment," the newly arrived prefect said, making sure the first years were settled before finding a seat of her own. Some of the students talked quietly while they waited, but Harry stayed quiet, wanting to make a good impression.

It wasn't long before she arrived. Professor Sprout appeared to be a dumpy little witch, but had a warm, welcoming smile as she looked over the first years. Harry was rather relieved that her gaze didn't seem to linger on him unduly. "Welcome to Hufflepuff house, boys and girls. I want you all to know how very proud I am to have each and every one of you here. I am Professor Sprout, and in addition to being your head of house, I am also the Herbology professor. Being in Hufflepuff is a great honor and a great responsibility. I expect all of you to work hard, work together, and support each other. Look around you," she continued, and paused as the students complied. "This is your family for the next seven years, and even afterwards. I hope that you'll learn to rely on each other, just as you can rely on myself, the other professors, and your prefects. Now," she said, clapping her hands together sharply, bringing the first years' attention back to herself, "while Jake and Sarah are passing out your timetables, I have one last, but very important thing to say. I understand that there is quite a bit of competition for the House Cup, and in quidditch. However, I expect that you will not let competitiveness get out of hand. The House and Quidditch Cups are all well and good, but there are many more important things." She smiled at the students, who now all had their timetables. "To bed with you lot, then. My door is always open if you need anything."

Harry joined the other boys as they made their way through the somewhat rounded tunnel that led to the first year boys' dormitory. There, he met the fifth Hufflepuff boy, a tall, brown haired boy named Wayne Hopkins who seemed a bit nervous around Harry. Zacharias Smith continued to ignore Harry and Justin, and only halfheartedly tried to converse with Ernie before huffing and pulling his curtains shut. Harry thought to stay up a bit and talk with his new roomates, but sleep claimed him as soon as his head touched his pillow.

HP-HP-HP

Harry joined Ernie and Justin as they made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry was sure he'd get lost along the way, so he was pleased that the two boys waited for him. They were met by two of the girls in their year, a fair-skinned redhead named Susan Bones and a short, dark girl with close-cropped hair who introduced herself as Megan Jones.

When they arrived at breakfast, Megan and Susan went and joined the other three first year girls, while Harry, Justin, and Ernie sat down near Wayne Hopkins, who appeared to be reluctantly talking with Zacharias Smith, who frowned darkly at Harry before lowering his voice, ignoring the three entirely afterwards.

This was fine with Harry, who had decided to skim through the first chapter of his Defense Against the Dark Arts book before class. He wasn't sure exactly what the class would consist of, but it sounded serious and he didn't want to be unprepared. He ate idly, deciding as he took a long drink from his pumpkin juice that, while it might not be orange juice, it was still quite good. The prefect who had let them to their dorms the previous night was on hand to show them around for the first day.

Harry found himself sorely disappointed with his first lesson. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a stuttering man named Professor Quirrell, stammered his way through an entire class period without managing to teach anything of note. Worse, the strong, almost overpowering smell of garlic left Harry with a terrible headache, which thankfully dulled soon after Harry left the pungent classroom.

Transfiguration was next, and Harry was sure he'd have never found the classroom in time if Jake, the fifth year prefect, hadn't been there to show the first years where to go. Professor McGonagall was every bit as stern as he'd expected her to be, starting the class off with a warning.

"Foolishness and playing around will not be tolerated," she said. "There will be no goofing around in my classroom. Transfiguration is a very serious and dangerous subject, and anyone who cannot remain serious themselves will be asked to leave and not return." She then turned a desk into a dog and back again.

As Harry expected, the first years, himself included, were no where near ready for _that _level of magic. Instead, McGonagall instructed them all to begin turning matchsticks into pins. Harry had tried this briefly at the Dursleys, but hadn't had the time to master it. Still, with McGonagall's patient instruction, he'd come quite close- his pin was only a little dull at the end, and the hole wasn't quite right- earning him both a point for Hufflepuff and a tight smile from Professor McGonagall.

Potions, which took place after lunch, was an entirely different affair. The classroom which was located in the dungeons, was dank, stuffy, and generally unpleasant, and the professor was every bit as nasty as he'd been led to believe.

"Potions is a very exact art. There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations, and therefore I doubt that any of you will even realize that this is magic at all. I can teach you to bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses and even put a stopper in death- that is, if you're not as foolish as those I usually must teach." Harry dutifully wrote down the professor's words, mindful that Snape's nearly black eyes were glaring at him the entire time the man spoke. He then worked his way down the roll, pausing when he reached Harry's name. "Potter... our new celebrity. You'll find that fame will not substitute for talent in my classroom," he said, still glaring at Harry as he finished taking attendance. As he finished, he turned back to Harry. "Potter!" he barked with an abruptness that caused Harry and several others to start. "What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Even if Harry knew- and he was pretty sure he didn't, as this wasn't in any of the books he'd read or skimmed that he could recall- he didn't think he'd be able to answer while staring into the hate-filled eyes of Professor Snape. "I... don't know, sir."

"You don't know?" he said, slightly mocking. "Very well, then. Where would you look for a bezoar?"

Harry brightened. This one was in his potions text- he'd found it during lunch, when thinking about what Hannah Abbott had said about Snape liking to poison students. "In the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry said.

Snape paused, his brow furrowing as he coldly regarded Harry. He looked as though he was going to ask another question, but abruptly turned away, slowly walking towards the front of the classroom. "A point from Gryff- _Hufflepuff_ for your unpreparedness, Potter." It was a measure of the instant dislike the students had for Snape- or how cowed they were- that no one glared at Harry for losing a point for Hufflepuff, nor called out Snape for his unfairness.

Fortunately, the rest of the class was uneventful, and Harry thought that he did quite well on his first potion. It helped that Ernie, who was his partner, was a deft hand at potions, and the two worked quietly and efficiently together. Ernie was even able to show him a couple of tricks to improve on the directions in the book. Harry was a bit reluctant, but Ernie seemed quite proficient at potions already, so Harry resolved to learn as much as he could from his partner. Harry figured that the potion turned out alright, given that Snape only glared as it was turned in, without making a single comment.

"That was... wow," Justin said as soon as he and Megan Jones left the classroom, just behind Harry and Ernie. "He really had it out for you, didn't he, Harry?"

"I don't know why," Harry responded. "I've never met him before." Harry had no idea why the man had almost taken the point from Gryffindor, but at the moment, couldn't care less. "I'll just have to make sure to stay on top of potions, then. I don't want to keep losing points..."

"It's completely unprofessional the way that man was going at you, and I for one will do anything I can to help," Ernie said. Harry smiled. It was nice having friends.

HP-HP-HP

The next day's classes were thankfully not nearly as eventful as potions were. Harry finally got to meet the man who'd sent him the joke spell book. Filius Flitwick was professor of Charms and the head of Ravenclaw house, and fell over when he called out Harry's name in the morning class. Like McGonagall, he showed off a bit of charms work and admonished the students to work hard and not play around too much, but seemed to have a kinder manner to him.

He also had herbology with the Gryffindors that afternoon, and hoped to take advantage of his first opportunity to speak with Ron Weasley since before the sorting. He thought the boy could be a friend, too, but Sprout arrived right after Ron did, and the red-haired boy was the first one out of the greenhouse after class ended, so Harry never got his chance. However, he did get what Justin would later laughingly refer to as a 'consolation Gryffindor.'

"Why didn't you tell me you were Harry Potter?" the bossy girl called from behind him as he tried to make his way towards Ron. He turned his head, hoping to get the girl to go away quickly, but he saw Ron leaving with the Irish boy he'd been working with. Harry sighed, and faced the girl fully.

"You never asked," he said simply, hoping the answer would satisfy her. It did not.

"Well, of course, you never gave me a chance, you were too busy starting fights before we even got to school, and _turning my hair yellow_, which was very rude and uncalled for, you know." Harry snickered, and the girl's frown deepened. "You should have been in Gryffindor. I've read all about you. You defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you survived when no one else ever did. Why are you in Hufflepuff?" Fortunately for her, the girl didn't put any scorn into the word Hufflepuff as some students did, as most of Harry's fellow first year 'Puffs were still in the greenhouse.

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff?" he asked coldly. "I think it's brilliant."

Seeming to realize she'd messed up, the girl said in a rather small voice, "Yes, well... it's just, you were awfully _brave _to stand up to You-Know-Who, weren't you."

"I was one," Harry deadpanned. "For all I know, he was stopped by a dirty nappy."

The girl stopped, realizing that perhaps she'd overstepped her bounds. "Yes, well... I, er, guess I should go..." Harry just shrugged, not wanting to hurt the girl's feelings, but also not particularly wanting her around. Hesitantly, she started to walk away.

Zacharias Smith laughed, shaking his head. "You sure told her, didn't you, Potter." Harry rolled his eyes, as he still wasn't particularly fond of Smith. He noticed the girl's pace pick up at Smith's words, though, and felt a pang of guilt. He also noticed Susan Bones and Sally-Anne Perks, whose name he only knew due to roll calls in class, giving him rather pointed looks. He sighed, and struggled to remember what the girl had called herself when she introduced herself on the train.

"Er, Hermione... do you want to walk to the great hall with us?" he asked, finally recalling the girl's name but still not really wanting her around, but wanting even less to feel guilty for driving her away. The change in her demeanor was instantaneous. She turned and smiled brightly, showing her somewhat too-large teeth, and practically skipped back to the group.

She thankfully remained mostly quiet on the way to the hall, and seemed reluctant to return to her table. Fortunately, Susan seemed to have taken to her, and brought her over to her usual spot, joining Megan and Hannah. The girls soon had an animated discussion going, with much giggling and occasional looks towards the boys, which made Harry and Justin both a bit uncomfortable. Ernie seemed unfazed, however, and Zacharias seemed to relish the attention.

They spent the hour before dinner studying and laughing, mixing schoolwork with fun. Harry found that even writing essays wasn't too bad when he had friends to laugh and have fun with, and was able to finish much of the day's work before it was time for dinner.

Hermione seemed to be having a much harder time of things. While the other girls wanted to have a bit of fun while they worked, Hermione seemed insistent that they focus exclusively on studying. While they didn't overtly shun her, it was obvious even to her that she was wearing out her welcome, and finally contented herself to frowning disapprovingly and working quietly while the others had their fun.

Hermione reluctantly rejoined her table for dinner, for which Harry was quite grateful. While he didn't want to feel guilty for chasing her off, he definitely didn't appreciate her trying to take the fun out of the Hufflepuff group's studying. He idly noted that she sat alone at the Gryffindor table, but after her comments earlier, didn't feel any particular need to do anything about it, either.

After dinner, the first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs made their way up to the astronomy tower. Harry wound up falling a bit behind when he dropped his bag, and so by the time he reached the tower, his dorm mates had already paired off. He also saw that Ron had paired with the Irish boy from before, too, but finally found an open telescope next to Hannah Abbott.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, knowing that she usually paired with Susan or Megan.

"It's alright," she said, shaking her head and pointing to another pair of telescopes. "Megan's with Sally-Anne and Susan's still working on your Gryffindor friend, so I don't have a partner either." Harry wondered how Hermione became 'his Gryffindor friend,' but decided it wasn't worth the debate.

"Thanks," he said, and they set to work at the direction of Professor Sinistra. Harry decided that he rather liked astronomy. It wasn't magic, really, but it was still a lot of fun. He found Sinistra to be an interesting professor, and as there was no risk of haywire magic, nor any strong house rivalry in this group, she was a bit relaxed on discipline, so Harry was able to talk quietly with Hannah as well as Justin and Ernie, who were at the next telescope over.

Harry was also able to take his chance to catch Ron, catching him as he was packing up his equipment. "Er, hi, Ron..." he began, wincing inwardly at just how lame he sounded.

Ron didn't meet his eyes. "Uh, yeah, listen, Dean's waiting for me back in the common room..."

Harry was annoyed. They'd gotten along fine on the train, but now Ron seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid him. Part of Harry wanted to just let him go. After all, he had other friends now. He didn't need Ron's friendship. But another part of Harry recognized that all friendships were valuable, and wasn't willing to let go of the first person he'd befriended without a fight.

"What is it, Ron? Why do you have a problem with me all of a sudden?"

Ron looked uncomfortable. "It's not like that," he began, looking frustrated himself. "It's just, you should have been in Gryffindor..." Harry was getting very sick of hearing that phrase already, but several things clicked into place.

"That's the issue then? The Boy-Who-Lived, in the house of the brave like his parents?" Harry asked pointedly, and Ron nodded, reluctantly. "And Hufflepuff isn't the house of the brave, or the smart, or the sneaky. It's for all the _rest_, right?" Ron's nod was even more reluctant. "Well, I'm not going to change your mind." Ron looked surprised at this, and opened his mouth to respond, but Harry cut him off. "I'm not. Only you can do that. But think about this- loyalty and hard work are important, too, maybe even more important than just being brave."

"I... yeah, look, okay, Hufflepuff's not that bad, I guess. At least you're not in Slytherin," he said, sounding for all the world like he was speaking a curse. "And at least Hufflepuffs don't study all the time, like Ravenclaws." Ron sounded like he was trying to convince himself, but Harry supposed he should take what he could get. "Er, anyway, we should go back... don't want Filch to find us still out, and everyone's already gone."

Harry looked around, belatedly realizing that the others had gone on without him. He could understand, though, as they were supposed to go right back after class ended.

"It's alright, though, I found a shortcut. My brothers know this castle inside and out, but I can find things, too," Ron said proudly. Harry just nodded, and followed the boy down. After several staircases, though, they were stymied by a locked door. "I don't remember this one being here," Ron said, sounding a bit confused.

Harry shrugged. "Let me try. I found a spell in the charms book that's supposed to unlock things. It worked okay at the Dursleys', but I don't know if it'll work on a magic lock," he said, frowning thoughtfully. He pulled his wand nonetheless. "_Alohomora!_" he incanted, trying to keep his voice down, and was rewarded with a loud click.

"It worked!" Ron exclaimed. "C'mon, it should be just through here." He opened the door, pulling Harry through behind him.

"Ron..." Harry began, looking up at the three massive dog heads that were quickly stirring from their slumber, "this is a bad shortcut."


	5. Firmly In Sight

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

Harry's years of dodging Dudley during 'Harry Hunting' season were the only thing that saved him. He dove to the side as two of the massive dog's heads lashed out at him. He landed awkwardly, jarring his arm, but found himself to the dog's side and out of immediate reach. Ron was not so lucky. The boy was frozen in place in fear, and it was only the fact that two of the heads were pulling the rest of the monster closer to Harry that saved him from more than a glancing blow by the third head. Nonetheless, he was knocked to the ground, but the shock of the blow seemed to shake him free of his stupor, and he dashed towards the door while the dog was mostly distracted with Harry.

"C'mon, Harry, we've got to get out of here!" he shouted as he reached the door. The boy pulled on the handle- and nothing happened. "Harry! I think it's locked again!"

Harry was too distracted to pay him any mind. The third head was still trying to pull the rest of the body towards Ron, but two of the creature's heads were trying their best to get to Harry. He had to dodge the center head as it whipped forward almost too fast for him to follow, but was caught on the leg by the right-hand head. It was only a glancing blow, but it was enough to send Harry sprawling on the ground.

"Harry!" Ron shouted from the door. "We need to get out of here!"

Harry bit back his response as he fell forwards. He could smell the dog-monster very strongly, here, as he rolled over some sort of wooden trap-door. The dog started turning and backing up, trying to maneuver around Harry so that its heads could reach him once more. Ron seemed to have been forgotten entirely as all three heads now tried to get to Harry. Harry reached for his wand, trying frantically to recall any spells that might help him slow down, or at least distract, the monster that seemed dead set on eating him. As his hand dove into his pocket, his shock was so strong that he spoke aloud.

"I've lost my wand!" Still trying to stay underneath the 'dog,' Harry cast his eyes about frantically, trying to find his wand. He found it almost immediately- against the wall farthest away from the door. He knew there was no way that he could get to his wand, get past the dog, make it to the door, and cast the unlocking charm, before the monster could eat him. "Ron!" he called, "I need you to distract it so I can get my wand!"

Ron was frozen to the door. It was all he could do to stay still and hope the dog wouldn't notice him as Harry danced around underneath it. He though it would have been funny to watch if it hadn't been so terrifying. When Harry called for his help, though, all Ron could do was shake his head.

Harry realized upon looking at Ron's terrified countenance that he wasn't going to be of any help. He dodged once more as the monster sidestepped and managed to get one of its heads into biting range, but Harry knew he couldn't keep this up for long. He _needed _his wand, or he, and Ron, would die here in this room. He realized that he had no choice- with Ron being too terrified to help, the only thing Harry could do was go for his wand and hope for the best. Steeling his resolve, Harry leapt forward from his hiding place underneath the dog towards his wand.

Less than an arm's length from his wand, Harry's leap came to an abrupt end. He heard the tearing of cloth and felt a sharp pain in his left arm, and the dog's triumphant growl. Harry grasped one last time towards his wand, knowing he wasn't near enough to reach it. "Come on," he muttered, trying for the last bit of space that would at least give him a fighting chance.

Harry could feel the breath of the other two heads on him as his wand, still a foot away from his hand, twitched, then leapt into his waiting hand. He turned, gasping pain as the motion caused his caught arm to pull and shift in the teeth of the monster, and cast a stinging hex- the only offensive spell he knew- right into the monster's center face.

The three heads jerked back as one, thankfully letting Harry loose as they did so, but with a growl of anger, renewed their assault on the trapped Hufflepuff. Harry couldn't see any way past the monster now that it had him against the wall, as the heads were working together to keep him from dodging too far away from it. Harry threw another stinging hex at the dog, but it seemed to only enrage it further.

Suddenly, the monster reared back, bucking heavily as though trying to throw something off. "Hurry, Harry, get the door! I don't know how long I can hold on!" came Ron's voice from... on top of the dog? Glancing up even as he darted past the monster, Harry saw Ron clinging frantically to its back, ducking frantically as all three heads reached back to try to pluck the annoyance from its shoulders.

Wasting no time, Harry ran for the door, shouting "_alohomora_" even before he reached it, and throwing it open as soon as he was there. "Ron, get off, the door's open, we need to go!" he called.

"I don't know how!" Ron half-wailed as he clung with all his might to the bucking monster.

Harry steeled his courage and prepared to re-enter the room and rescue his friend, but as he stepped back into the room's entry, the monster lurched towards him, all three heads once more trying to finish what they started. Harry backed up quickly, but the dog didn't even slow down. It crashed into the wall, shaking a liberal amount of dust free from the stonework- and sending a stunned Ron flying through the doorway.  
>"Ow," Ron said eloquently as Harry threw the door shut in the snarling monster's face, and rushed over to help his friend up.<p>

"We need to get out of here _now_," Harry hissed as he pulled Ron to the nearest staircase. By the time the two parted ways, Ron was alternating between terror at almost having been eaten, and elation at having 'defeated' the giant three-headed dog. But there was only one thing on Harry's mind- what was under that trap door the dog was standing on?

HP-HP-HP

"Where were you last night? We waited up a bit, but you never came back," came Justin's voice only a couple of short hours later, rousing Harry from a dream in which he was somewhat sure he was riding a giant, three headed dog into battle against the evil Dark Lord Snape. Groggily, he shook his head, but the throbbing pain in his arm and leg brought him abruptly to full wakefulness.

"Er," he started, pausing for time, "I, uh, wanted to talk to Ron, and we sort of got lost on the way down." Justin seemed to accept that explaination- at least, until Harry got out of bed, and winced at the pain in his leg.

"Harry," he said, slowly, "what happened? You didn't fight, did you?" he asked warily.

"No. Well, yes, but no."

"As long as you're certain."

"Trust me, Justin, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." Justin just shook his head, obviously curious but not wanting to push. "I'll tell you guys tonight. What time is it? Are we late?"

"Huh? No, we don't have any day classes today, probably because of Astronomy being late at night." Harry nodded at that.

"How come you woke me up then?" Harry asked, curious.

"Well, it _is _after breakfast, now, and I was sort of curious about why you were gone so late." Harry nodded again, and made his way slowly towards the shower.

"Well, er, thanks for making sure I was up, anyhow," Harry said, mostly over his irritation at being woken up early and reasonably sure he would someday forgive the boy for preventing him from watching his giant three-headed dog from eating Snape.

He took the time in his shower to look over his injuries from the night before, and was relieved to note that the dog seemed to have gotten ahold of more robe than flesh. Still, that left him short one school robe, and he wasn't sure how to go about getting a replacement. When he was immediately accosted by Ernie and Zacharias upon leaving the shower, he gave the rest of his roommates the same promise that he gave Justin, ensuring at least a little bit of peace and quiet for the rest of the morning.

Harry spent the rest of the morning in the library. He was determined not to be caught out by Snape again, especially since it would almost certainly result in Hufflepuff losing points.

His hopes for a quiet lunch, though, were dashed when he came across Draco Malfoy confronting another boy not far from the great hall. He really didn't want to get involved, but at the same time, Harry had been on the receiving end of bullying- and of said bullying being ignored by others- too many times to stand for it.  
>"Leave him alone, Malfoy," Harry called, pointing his wand at the boy, who immediately pocketed what looked to be a small orb. He then turned to face Harry, looking both surprised and amused. "I don't think so, <em>Potter<em>," he said, sneering. "What's a worthless little Hufflepuff like you going to do about it?"

Harry immediately thought of a couple spells he might use, briefly lamenting the fact that, aside from the stinging hex, all he really knew were a few charms. Before he could respond, though, a familiar- and hated- voice came from behind him.

"Wand down, Potter, and ten points from Hufflepuff for fighting in the halls," Snape said, sounding victorious. "Now, Potter," he said again, when Harry hesitated.

"Pr... professor," the boy that Malfoy had been bothering in the first place said, hesitantly, "Malfoy took my remembrall..."

"Why would I steal anything from stupid Longbottom? If I wanted a remembrall, my father would buy me one," Malfoy said, looking disdainfully at the other boy.  
>"Indeed," Snape agreed instantly. "Ten points from Gryffindor for lying to a professor, Longbottom." The boy, now appearing to be near tears, closed him mouth and ran for the great hall. "Your father liked to start fights, too, Potter, and I see that even being put into Hufflepuff has not dampened your arrogance. Leave my sight, now, or it'll be detention another ten points."<p>

Sullenly, Harry left without another word, now regretting having wasted his morning on studying potions. He'd cooled off somewhat by the time he reached the Hufflepuff table- mainly because he still wanted to do well in potions, despite the man teaching it- but stayed quiet throughout the meal, only giving his friends basic responses, and only when he was directly addressed.

Harry kept to himself for the rest of the day, but fortunately none of his classes that afternoon needed him to do much more than pay attention and write notes. As expected, his roommates practically jumped on him as soon as he entered his room. What he wasn't expecting were the others who were in the room...

"Er, are they supposed to be here?" Harry asked, rather surprised at the extra people waiting in the boys' dorm.

"'They' were invited," Megan Jones said crossly.

"Boys can't enter the girls' rooms; there's no rule about girls in the boys' rooms though," Hannah Abbott added, giggling.

"How do you even know that," Zacharias Smith grumbled.

"One of the sixth years told us," Susan Bones responded.

In fact, the entire first year was crammed into Harry's dorm, apparently all to hear his story.

"I don't know why you're all so interested," Harry said, frowning. "I mean, I could have just gotten lost..."

"Susan told me that Hermione Granger told her that she'd overheard Ron Weasley telling one of his brothers that you helped him fight a giant monster!" Hannah responded. Susan blushed faintly and swatted Hannah with a pillow.

"Er, well, that's not exactly what happened," Harry began, and with those words realized that there would be no getting out of it. All the first years, even Zacharias Smith, were now looking at Harry in rapt attention, most of them appearing surprised that there was even a grain of truth to Ron Weasley's story.

"I, well, I met Ron on the train, and, you know, became friends," Harry began, and there were nods all around, though Smith seemed rather impatient. "Well, I hadn't had a chance to catch up with him since before the sorting, so I stayed after Astronomy to talk. Afterwards, he told me he knew a shortcut to get back downstairs, so I followed him down." Harry hesitated, suddenly unsure if he should tell them the truth. "And, er..."

"Get on with it, Potter," Zacharias said with a frown. "This story's boring."

Harry shook his head. "You don't have to listen, Smith. I never wanted to tell it anyway."

"Harry, don't listen to him," Susan said from next to Justin's bed. "He's just mad because he didn't get to have any adventures yet." Zacharias gave her a sour look, which she met with a too-sweet smile.

Harry sighed, and decided just to tell the truth. "Well, we sort of... got lost. Ron said that his shortcut was through a locked door, so I used the unlocking charm on it-"

"Wow, you already know that?" Megan said. "I didn't think we'd learn that for a couple more weeks!"

"Well, I, uh, did a little practicing at my relatives' place before school started."

"Harry, you're not supposed to do that," Susan admonished. "We're not allowed to use magic outside of school until we come of age."  
>Harry shook his head. "From what I saw, it's only after our first year. I don't think they expect that we can do anything before then, but no one ever said anything to me about it, so..."<p>

Most of the other first years glanced around nervously, as though worried about even knowing about Harry using magic outside of school made them complicit, but Sally-Anne Perks, who was muggleborn, and Susan Bones both looked thoughtful. Justin also looked thoughtful, and blurted out, "So you mean I could have used magic before school and I missed my chance? Aw, man..."

The others laughed, and Harry continued his story. "So, er, yeah, I used the unlocking charm, and Ron and I went through the door. But, it wasn't a shortcut. There was a big dog on the other side of the door."

Zacharias interrupted. "Oh, that was your big monster? How terrifying, Potter, a great big dog." Most of the other first years laughed, but cut off when Harry continued.

"It was about six feet tall and had three heads." Dead silence greeted that announcement.  
>Hannah broke the quiet after a moment. "Er, Harry, where were you? Because, I really don't want to be eaten."<p>

"It was the off-limits third floor corridor." Silence reigned once more. "We didn't know that, of course. But... thing was, the dog was standing on top of some kind of trap door. Ron and I managed to get away- more or less," he continued, rubbing his sore arm. "But I'm really wondering what's underneath that door, and why they've got a giant three headed dog in the school to watch over it."

HP-HP-HP

The rest of Harry's first week was thankfully quiet. The extra potions work he'd put in helped a little bit, but Snape still seemed to go out of his way to take points. The potion he and Ernie had worked on on Monday was given an 'A' which enraged the normally calm boy. Harry was determined to do better, but Ernie insisted that the potion was at least an 'E' if not an 'O'. Secretly, Harry was surprised, given Snape's treatment of him, that he'd passed at all.

Friday morning of the second week of class brought flying lessons to the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The lesson that the Slytherins and Gryffindors had together the previous day was preceded by much bragging and taunting, but the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw group was much more subdued. Harry felt that this was mostly due to the fact that Neville Longbottom had fallen off his broom and spent the night in the hospital wing, as prior to that incident he'd heard several stories from his half and pure-blood roommates about their prowess with a broom.

Thus it was with some trepidation that the first years went out to the field where Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, waited for them with several decrepit looking brooms.

"Those brooms look older than my dad," Zacharias Smith complained, and for once, it seemed the rest of the first years agreed with him.

"Good morning class," the grey-haired flying instructor said as the first years arrived. "Everyone take a position next to one of the brooms."

The students did so, with those students who knew about such things jockeying to get one of the less damaged brooms. Harry wound up next to one with half its bristles missing, and a crack in the handle.

"Excellent. First, call your broom by placing your hand over it and saying 'up' in a very firm tone of voice."

Harry did so, and was amazed as the broom immediately jumped into his hand. It was the only one that did so, though Zacharias Smith's broom gave a sort of half-hearted roll onto its side, prompting Smith to scowl at it and continue to order it to his hand.

It was several minutes before the last student, Hannah, was able to call their broom, and she only got it because she leaned over and picked it up when Hooch's attention was elsewhere. When she realized Harry had seen her, she just smiled and put a finger over her lips to keep him quiet.

Hooch then had everyone mount their brooms, correcting students who were doing it incorrectly, then directed everyone to hover a few feet off the ground before proceeding to actual flight. She kept a close eye on the students, and most of them likewise were flying cautiously. However, even the most reluctant was soon confident enough not to be clinging to their broom desperately. Harry found that he very much enjoyed the feeling of just drifting around aimlessly.

He came out of his musing as he heard Zacharias bragging to Susan about how good of a chaser he was. "I'll be on the house team next year, of course," he was saying. "Watch, I bet I can hit that... whatever it is... all the way from over here!"

Harry's curiousity was piqued, and he glanced over towards Zacharias and Susan. Zacharias had a small rock in his hand, but it was where he was aiming that had caught Harry's attention. Caught between one of the towers and the roof of Hogwarts was a small bauble that, if Harry was not mistaken, was the same one Malfoy had taken from Neville Longbottom the previous week.  
>"Smith, don't, that's-" Harry cut off as his warning came too late, and Zacharias let fly with his rock.<p>

The boy's aim wasn't quite perfect, as the rock hit just above the small sphere, but the impact was enough to shake the object free, cauing it to plummet towards the ground. Not stopping to think, Harry lowered his broom into a dive, trying to catch the object before it hit the ground. He could see the ground rushing up faster than he thought possible, but in the last possible instant, he pulled up, reaching out and snatching the falling sphere just before it hit the ground. A resounding _crack_ brought Harry back to reality, as the damaged handle of his broom protested loudly before breaking off, depositing Harry unceremoniously to the ground. He could hear Justin and Ernie cheering along with Megan and Sally-Anne, but loudest of all was Madam Hooch.

"Potter! I don't know what you were thinking, but we're going straight to your head of house! Honestly!" she ranted, and grabbed Harry by his arm, dragging him into of the castle.

As she half-pulled Harry through the castle corridors, her angry muttering attracted the attention of Peeves, who followed along, making faces at Harry and diving at the ground in front of Hooch. Judging by the steadily increasing purple of her face, she was not nearly as amused as the poltergeist was.

"Get out of here, Peeves," she snarled after several minutes of this, but the poltergeist merely made a face at her and continued diving. At Sprout's office door, Hooch knocked harder than was strictly necessary, though Harry was at least a little relieved that she was glaring at Peeves almost as much as she was at him.

"Yes, coming," came the voice through the door. When the door opened, Hooch pulled Harry through, slamming the door in Peeves' face. He could hear the poltergeist making raspberries against the door.

"What's all this, then?" Sprout asked, glancing at Harry with an unreadable look before turning her gaze to Hooch.

"Potter, here, decided to dive full-on at the ground, breaking one of the school brooms and very nearly his fool neck," Hooch spat.

"I was trying to catch Neville Longbottom's, er..." Harry said, awkwardly holding out the miraculously undamaged sphere. "I don't know what it is, but, um, Draco Malfoy took it from him last week."

Sprout frowned for a long moment, looking thoughtful before speaking. "What do you mean, catch it? Were you playing games with it?" she said, sounding stern.  
>"No, Professor," Harry began, a bit calmer now that it looked as though Sprout might be willing to hear his side of the story. "Sm... er, one of the others was throwing rocks, and I saw that he was about to hit Neville's ball thing. It fell, so I just sort of chased after it..." he finished, waiting for Sprout to pass judgement.<p>

Hooch, who had been quiet while Harry explained what he was doing, looked towards Harry, furrowing her brow. "I _had_ heard something about Mr. Malfoy putting something on the roof while I was taking Longbottom to the hospital wing, but I had thought that Mr. Weasley was just spreading tales."

Sprout looked at Harry with a piercing gaze that belied her kindly face. "I see. Well, Mr. Potter, it sounds to me like you did the wrong thing for the right reasons. I'm very proud of you for trying to help a fellow student, but very disappointed in your breaking of the rules- and doing something so dangerous at that!" She shook her head. "I won't take any points, since you _were _trying to do the right thing, but I think it's only fair that you serve detention."

Harry looked down, but nodded. It wasn't unfair, and was in fact a lighter punishment than he'd expected.

"And, Mr. Potter," she continued in a more kindly tone of voice, prompting Harry to look up at her. She was smiling. "I'd like you to consider attending quidditch practices and learning about the game. It sounds like you'd be quite good- just like your father. You'll be able to have your own broom next year, and you can try out.

"Speaking of brooms," she continued, "there is still the matter of the broken school broom." She looked over at Hooch, who looked considering.

"Well," she said, "that broom was almost done for anyhow, but still, that's one less that we have to use. I think," she said slowly, piercing Harry with her gaze, "that fair repayment would be for Mr. Potter to spend a couple of his weekends helping maintain the other school brooms. It would be a good lesson for him to learn, anyway, if he's going to get his own next year."

Sprout nodded. "Very well then. Mr. Potter, you'll spend your Saturday mornings helping Madam Hooch with the school brooms, until, say... mid October?" she finished with a questioning glance at Hooch, who nodded. "Mid October," she confirmed.

Harry just nodded again, relieved, as he wasn't sure if his vault had enough to replace a broom.

"And Mr. Potter," Sprout said, prompting Harry to look at her once more. "No more stunts like that on a broom until you're on the Quidditch pitch, hmm?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said with a grin that matched Sprout's own.


	6. A Feast to Remember

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

When Harry was let out of Sprout's office, he was rather surprised to see some of his fellow first year Hufflepuffs waiting a corridor over. He caught sight of Hannah and Megan waving him over as he entered the passage that would take him to the great hall, and took in the worried looks on Justin and Ernie's faces.

"How bad was it, Harry?" Justin said without preamble as he joined the quartet. "Did we lose a lot of points? Not that I blame you," he added hurriedly. "Zacharias was being a prat. Still..."

But Harry shook his head. "No, no points off." He smiled at their relieved expressions. "But I am in detention until the end of October." Shocked gasps from all four students met this statement.

"October? That's not on at all," Justin said.

"It's not that bad... just a couple hours on Saturdays helping with the school brooms," Harry said. "I mean, I don't know that it'll be fun, but..." Harry paused, letting a slow smile cross his features, before continuing excitedly. "Professor Sprout says that I have a good shot at making the house team next year, and thinks it'll be a great chance for me to learn about taking care of brooms and all."

"Well, of course you'll make the team!" Ernie said with obvious pride in his friend. "It would be a travesty if you didn't. That was your first time on a broom, wasn't it?" he asked, waiting on Harry's nod of confirmation before continuing. "And that dive looked almost professional. Imagine how you'll be with some practice!"

Megan nodded her agreement. "I've been to professional matches before, and that dive was top notch. And that catch! Shame about the broom though."

Harry shrugged. "Hooch said it was old anyway... I'm just glad I don't have to pay for it! I don't know how much a broom is, exactly, but I can't imagine it'd be cheap to replace."

Ernie just gave him an odd look. "I... don't think you'd have a problem, Harry," he said, hesitantly.

Harry was about to respond, but a loud grumble from Megan's stomach caused the shorter girl to blush and the other Hufflepuffs to laugh. "We'd better get to lunch before Megan's stomach gets too out of sorts!" Harry said with a laugh, before dodging the girl's playful swing and leading his friends towards the great hall.

HP – HP – HP

Before Harry knew it, September had rushed headlong into October. The month had flown by, and Harry found himself in a comfortable, steady routine. He and his fellow Hufflepuffs worked hard in their studies, and often found themselves in the company of Hermione, by way of the Gryffindor's growing friendship with Susan. Harry still didn't much care for the girl, but found it rather hard to dislike someone who was so willing to help out her fellow students.

Near the middle of the month, the school was shocked to find that Gryffindor, which had been a very close second thus far for the house cup, was knocked to dead last due to a first year losing 50 points after being caught out in the trophy room after midnight. Ron Weasley found himself a pariah in his own house, and was pranked mercilessly by his older brothers for weeks. Every time Ron would show up to meals with a different hair color or new appendage, though, Draco Malfoy would give the boy a mocking leer and Ron's face would turn to match his original hair color.

Hufflepuff was solidly in second place for the house cup after Gryffindor's fall from grace, Harry was pleased to note, despite Snape's constant point-taking. Harry despised his time spent in the potions dungeon, despite his initial liking of the subject, and Ernie, who usually partnered with him, was growing more and more furious at what he considered to be the unfair grades for their potions. Hannah and Susan both suggested that he complain to Sprout about Snape's blatantly unfair treatment of him, but in Harry's experience, trying to tell an adult about being bullied only resulted in the bullying getting worse. Harry knew he was on his own, but was glad to, for once, have friends to commiserate with. Ernie claimed to be 'working on something,' but whether or not he was, Harry still felt better knowing that he had someone on his side.

On the other hand, Harry's detentions with Madam Hooch were almost fun. While he didn't much care for cleaning the brooms, Hogwarts' flying instructor was also quite knowledgable about the different charms that went into making and maintaining a broom, and taught Harry quite a bit. While Harry knew that much of what she was showing him was over his head, especially since many of the charms were OWL and NEWT level, he still found the lessons to be very informative. He figured that he would be quite ready to own and care for his own broom next year.

Even though he had no one to send mail to, Harry also made sure to spend time with his owl. She was, after all, technically his very first friend, and Harry thought it important to go to the owlery at least once a week, usually with owl treats or leftover sausage from breakfast.

Harry also noted that Ron got along with Hermione about as well as he did with Draco- which was to say, not at all. Ron would often come to visit Harry and his friends in the library, usually to try to get Harry to play chess or exploding snap. Of course, this was where the Hufflepuff first years would be studying with Hermione, who reacted very poorly to attempts to interrupt the students' work. This inevitably led to an argument between the two, carried out in low, hushed tones that were no less venomous for being spoken in quiet voices. Harry was sure it was only a matter of time before hissed insults led to a full out fight.

HP – HP – HP

Halloween was, to wizard kind, one of the most important days of the year. Aside from its historical and magical significance, though, it held special meaning to the witches and wizards of Britain- it was the day the Dark Lord Voldemort was vanquished by the Boy-Who-Lived. This made the day somewhat less enjoyable for Harry. As though reminded of his seeming significance, Harry once more found himself the subject of whispers and pointed fingers, which had dropped off quite sharply following his sorting into Hufflepuff.

Ron was still persona non grata in Gryffindor, but Halloween and the reminder that Harry Potter was also 'The Boy Who Lived' caused many of Ron's house mates to remember that he was friends with Harry, and Ron found himself mostly forgiven as the Gryffindors inundated him with questions about Harry. Harry was just grateful they weren't asking _him_, but still had had enough when a fourth-year Ravenclaw asked him what spell he'd used to stop Voldemort.

"I'm done," Harry said disgustedly, pushing his plate away and grabbing his books. "I'm going to the library. Maybe I can finish this essay in peace."

Most of Harry's friends were still eating, but Justin and Ernie got up to join him anyhow, followed reluctantly by Sally-Anne, who was giving her half-eaten sandwich a mournful look even as she stood up. Harry just shook his head. "It's alright, really. You finish your lunch. I just need to get some peace and quiet."

Justin sat down with some reluctance, and Sally-Anne with somewhat less as she bit into her sandwich with gusto. "If you're sure, Harry," she said around bites.

Ernie, however, wouldn't be dissuaded. "Nonsense, Harry," he said, "what kind of friend would I be if I left you alone, especially today." Hannah and Susan nodded their agreement, and Justin looked a bit ashamed that he'd been willing to let Harry go off alone.

Harry smiled gratefully, inwardly touched that his friends were so concerned for his well-being. Susan ran over to the Gryffindor table to get Hermione- the two were fast becoming inseperable- while Ernie and Hannah gathered their things.

The five first years were mostly alone in the library, and soon Harry was done with all of his homework. There were still the occasional gawker, but Madam Pince ran a very tight ship, and none of them stayed long or made a scene. Harry found himself helping Susan and Hannah with their Defense essays, while Hermione was quietly explaining the hover charm to a bemused Ernie, who could only nod along with her rapid- though still very soft- speech.

Harry was rather absorbed in helping Hannah- who was not terribly confident at the best of times- and showing her the wand motions for the tickling jinx, and thus failed to notice the arrival of his other Gryffindor friend. He, however, did notice the look of annoyance on Hermione's face.

"The library again? We don't even have anything due in until Monday," Ron said, looking a bit annoyed himself. "C'mon, Harry, why don't you come play some exploding snap? It's been ages since-"

"Harry's busy," Hermione interrupted. "Unlike _some _people, he doesn't wait until the last minute to do his work." Harry frowned, and Ernie and Hannah both looked rather uncomfortable. Susan, however, was unafraid to speak her mind.

"Ron, just... go. Stop bothering us. We're busy," she said, rolling her eyes.

Ron flushed, and seemed about to respond, but he saw something in Susan's eyes that stopped him. Instead, he turned to Hermione. "That's it, isn't it. You help the Hufflepuffs so you can feel superior, and pretend you have friends," he said nastily.

Hermione, who'd been set to trade barbs with Ron, wasn't expecting that, and adopted a hurt expression. Harry, too, was taken aback by Ron's tirade. While Ron and Hermione never really got on, it was the first time Ron had ever said anything so directly hurtful. Part of Harry was wondering if, Ron wasn't at least in part correct. Harry knew that he wasn't particularly fond of the girl- she could be quite bossy and tended to be a bit of a know-it-all- but he _had _grown to respect her willingness to help and accept her presence among his friends.

It only took Harry a moment to make up his mind, but that was just a moment too long. Hermione ran off, tears in her eyes, when no one immediately responded to Ron's comment. Ron looked vindicated, at least for a moment.

Hannah, who was usually one of Harry's quieter friends, stood up and gave Ron a hard shove. "Ronald Weasley, you great prat!" she snarled, her cheeks pink with anger and blond pigtails flailing about wildly.

Harry nodded his agreement, and stood to join Hannah. "Hermione's our friend. Hermione's _my _friend, and if you want to be, too, you need to cut it out."

Ron looked rather shocked to be facing down two irate badgers, and turned towards Ernie for support. Ernie, though, had the utmost respect for Hermione- especially given their mutual enjoyment of potions- and just shook his head at the redhead.

"I'm going to find Hermione," Susan said, standing abruptly. "She needs a friend right now. _You_," she said with derision, poking Ron hard in the chest, "had best go back to Gryffindor tower and think about what it means to act like a decent wizard."

Ron paused for only a brief moment before fleeing Susan's wrath. Susan left only a moment later.

Harry let out a long sigh. "Er, sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

"Why?" Hannah asked. "You weren't the one who acted like a git."

Ernie just shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it, Harry. Still, I think it would be best if Ron left us alone for awhile."

Harry nodded. He wasn't too happy with his friend right now either.

The mood lightened as the trio made their way down to the great hall for the Halloween feast, and soon Harry and Ernie were trading quips about whether Megan was going to leave anything for them if they were late.

Harry immediately looked around when they arrived in the great hall. "They're not here," he said quietly to his companions.

"Give them a bit," Hannah said gently. "Girl-talk takes time."

Ernie snickered. "Everything about girls takes time." Hannah didn't dignify his comment with a response beyond sticking out her tongue at both boys.

The great hall was lavishly decorated, and Harry rolled his eyes as the whispering picked back up. Fortunately, the Hufflepuff table was mostly devoid of the source of Harry's annoyance, and he, Hannah, and Ernie sat down by Justin, Megan, and Sally-Anne. As was usually the case, Wayne was sitting further down the table with Zacharias, while Leanne, who was the last first year Hufflepuff girl and only one that Harry had yet to properly meet, was over at the Gryffindor table with her second year friend.

The feast was, as expected, quite good, but Harry found his enjoyment dampened by a growing guilt over Hermione. Hannah still insisted that they were busy girl-talking, but Harry could see the shame in her eyes, too. After close to an hour had passed without any sign of either girl, Harry had had enough.

"I'm going to go look for them," he said. "They've almost missed the feast, and I really think we should apologize to Hermione, anyhow." Ernie looked down, acknowledging the point, and Hannah reluctantly nodded.

"What happened, anyhow?" Justin asked, as the trio had not been forthcoming about why Susan wasn't with them.

Hannah spoke before Harry or Ernie could. "Ron Weasley said some really awful things about her, and she left before any of us could say anything. Susan went to look for her, but that was over an hour ago."

Justin looked uncomfortable. He had shared in Harry's part-time irritation towards the Gryffindor. "Do you think I should come, too?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "It's okay. You weren't there, but I sort of think that the three of us should go say we're sorry for not speaking up."

Justin nodded. "Alright then. I'll see you in the common room?" Harry nodded, and he, Ernie, and Hannah left the great hall.

"Where do you think they went?" Harry asked once they were far enough away to talk over the noise coming from the feast.

Ernie shrugged. "I'm not sure. Hermione could have gone back to Gryffindor...?"

Hannah just shook her head. "I don't think so... she wouldn't have wanted the other Gryffindors to see her cry."

Harry silently agreed. He certainly didn't like anyone seeing him after Dudley caught him. "Where, then?" he asked aloud. When neither of his friends answered, Harry continued. "Well, I guess we can just start looking and see if we find them?"

It didn't take the trio long to search the ground floor, as they'd already covered most of the likely places their wayward Gryffindor friend could be. The first floor took a bit longer, but the three Hufflepuffs were determined to find their friend.

Just as the students arrived on the second floor, though, Harry saw a billowing cloak turn the corner, headed towards the third floor. "Was that... Snape?" he asked, looking at his friends questioningly.

"It certainly looked like the old bat," Ernie muttered sullenly.

"He looked like he was in an awful rush," Hannah commented.

"I wonder what for?" Harry asked. "I think we should follow him."

He was met with a pair of incredulous stares. "Harry, I thought we were going to find Susan and Hermione?" Hannah said.

But Harry was already moving. "What if something's happened?" Harry said, sounding worried, as he ran, his two friends following belatedly. "Snape might be going there now. They've been gone a long time..." Neither Ernie nor Hannah complained after that.

As they reached the third floor, Harry noticed that Snape seemed to be heading towards the forbidden corridor. "You don't think...?" Hannah said with great reluctance, giving voice to Harry's own frightened thoughts. The idea of Hermione and Susan running afoul of the three-headed dog- all because he hadn't the decency to speak up in defense of a girl who'd been nothing but a friend- horrified him.

But as they started to run towards the forbidden corridor, a horrible stench assailed Harry's nose. Before he could say anything, though, a loud, shuddering crash echoed down the hallway, accompanied by two screams.  
>Harry's eyes widened, and he spun, sprinting towards the screams. It was only a moment before he found the source- one of the girls' bathrooms had its door torn off. Harry ran inside without hesitation, and immediately skidded to a halt. The creature before him seemed torn from nightmare. It was several feet taller than him and very wide, with thick, grey skin and a club that seemed even larger than Harry was. But in front of it, hiding under the last, unbroken sink, were Hermione and Susan.<p>

"How many monsters can there be in one castle?" Harry complained. He immediately threw a tripping jinx at the monster, but to his shock, it had no effect whatsoever. Belatedly, Harry realized that it did accomplish one thing- the creature had turned to face him.

"Run, Harry!" Susan screamed, but Harry wasn't about to abandon the two of them. He threw himself to one side as the creature swung its club at him, barely managing to avoid it. As he got to his feet, he tried another tripping jinx, but it only seemed to make the monster angrier.

As it took another swing at Harry, Ernie and Hannah arrived. Hannah cried out in fright as she laid eyes on the monster, distracting Harry for just a moment. The beast's swing clipped his arm, laying him out on the ground. He was forcefully reminded of how he felt when the three-headed dog had gotten ahold of him, only this time, he'd heard a distinct _crack _as the club impacted his arm. Gritting his teeth, he got to his feet and stepped back a couple of steps.

"Run!" he shouted to Susan and Hermione, who were still underneath the sink. Hermione appeared to be frozen in shock, but Susan got herself together enough to act, pulling Hermione's arm and pulling her past the club-wielding monster.

Ernie was not standing idle. As soon as Hannah screamed, Ernie froze for just a brief moment before casting the first spell he could think of. "_Multicorfors_!" he shouted, with sharp, neat wand gesture. The grey creature turned a very slight shade darker, and Ernie had the grace to look embarrassed.

The creature took another swing at Harry, its overhead blow missing the boy but smashing into the floor with a dull crunch. Harry knew he was running out of space to dodge, but as the monster got ready to attack once more, it suddenly stopped, and let out a single, gurgling laugh.

Behind the creature, Hannah stood by the door, stock still, her wand still pointed at the creature. "I did it!" she cried in delight at her successful tickling jinx. Her laughter died as the monster turned to face her. It was not laughing.

"Run!" Harry shouted again, this time to Ernie and Hannah as he used the distraction provided by Hannah's jinx to get past the monster. It took a halfhearted swing at him, before lumbering after the trio.

"Now what?" Hannah wailed as the monster chased them. Though the first years were smaller and more agile than the thing chasing them, it was easily faster than them, and there was nowhere nearby they could go to evade it. Nowhere, Harry realized, except...

"Follow me!" he shouted as he turned down the forbidden corridor. He noted that the door leading to Hogwart's _other _monster appeared to be open, but didn't have time to consider the ramifications of this as he pushed Ernie and Hannah further down the corridor. "Go!" he called. They hesitated for a moment before continuing down the hallway. _Perfect,_ Harry thought, as the behemoth outside the room lined up to charge him. He waited until it was nearly upon him before diving out of the way, landing painfully on his hurt arm. He muffled his cry of pain- and thought he heard a similar shout from within the room behind him- and staggered to his feet, pulling the door that now held two monsters at bay firmly shut.

Harry slumped down against the wall as he heard footsteps coming towards him from both ahead and to his right, down the hall Ernie and Hannah had run towards. He grimaced a bit as the adrenaline started wearing off and he could feel the pain in his arm more acutely.

He saw McGonagall running towards him as the nearby door opened, forcibly ejecting a shocked-looking Professor Snape. The potions professor was clearly worse for wear. Harry could see several places where the three-headed dog had obviously gotten ahold of his least-favorite professor. Harry was contemplating possible avenues of escape, but before he could, McGonagall reached them. As she went directly to Snape, Harry distinctly heard Snape say to her in a voice laced with pain, "It's safe." The man then lost consciousness.

McGonagall immediately flicked her wand towards the fallen professor as Hannah and Ernie, now joined by Susan and Hermione, joined them. McGonagall spared them a scathing look before briskly walking away, a levitating Snape in tow. "Hospital wing," she ordered the five curtly.

Harry wanted to be annoyed by her treatment of them, but realized that, much as he disliked the man, looking after Snape was likely more important than dealing with a handful of first years at the moment. He had no doubt that he and the others would be interrogated soon enough.

The five stayed quiet as they followed McGonagall to the hospital wing, and waited patiently while Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, tended to Snape's injuries as a worried McGonagall looked on. Once it seemed clear that Snape was out of danger, she rounded on Harry and his friends. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking suddenly rather intimidating. "There had best be a good explanation for this, Mr. Potter."

Harry tried frantically to come up with a way to explain that would prevent his friends from getting into trouble, but Hermione beat him to it. "It was my fault, professor," she said. "I thought I could beat the troll myself, so I went looking for it."

_That was a troll?_ Harry thought. _Well, it's ugly enough._ McGonagall seemed to be getting ready to lay into Hermione, but Harry interrupted. "That's not it, Professor. It was my fault." If anything, McGonagall looked even more livid as her eyes darted between the two first years. "We were in the library, and Ron Weasley said some rude things to Hermione. Instead of being the friend I should have been and sticking up for her, I didn't say anything." Before McGonagall could say anything, he turned to face Hermione, who was smiling at him through her watery eyes. "I'm sorry. You are our friend, even if you never help us with homework again." Hermione sniffled loudly, but McGonagall cleared her throat, bringing the first years' attention back to her.

"That's all well and good, but why didn't you go to your common room like Professor Dumbledore ordered?" she asked, still looking rather annoyed.

"We didn't know, Professor," Hannah said quickly. "We left partway through the feast to look for Susan and Hermione. We never even knew about the monster until we ran into it." McGonagall stared at the blond girl for a long moment. Hannah started to fidget uncomfortably, but kept the professor's gaze.  
>"Why on earth didn't you run away as soon as you ran into it?" she said. Harry was starting to get annoyed- he felt as though she was looking for reasons to blame them.<p>

"I wasn't just going to abandon Susan and Hermione," he said angrily. "So we distracted it, and Susan and Hermione got away. Hannah and Ernie distracted it so I could get away- mostly," he finished with a grimace for his hurt arm.

McGonagall's feature's softened. "Mr. Potter, why didn't you say anything?" Frowning, she waved her wand over his arm. Harry felt it heat up, but not uncomfortably, and felt the pain begin to recede. "It's not healed, Potter," she cautioned. "You'll need to wait for Madam Pomfrey to get done with Professor Snape to have a look at you." Harry just nodded, and McGonagall turned to the other first years. "Are any of the rest of you hurt?" she asked, looking particularly at Hermione and Susan, who were both rather wet and had bits of porcelain in their hair. She seemed satisfied by the chorus of 'no ma'am' that she got in response.

"Very well then. Twenty points to Hufflepuff for bravery- and sheer dumb luck." Then she gave a fond look towards Hermione, and added, "And another ten for doing the right thing and standing by a friend."

HP – HP – HP

That night, Harry's dreams were more haunted than usual. He slept poorly, especially as he had been confined to the hospital wing by the nurse, who had healed his arm with a foul tasting potion but insisted he reamin for the night anyhow. He couldn't remember much of what he dreamed, but was awoken by a high pitched laugh and woman's scream, and a flash of green light. It was only years of being more afraid of waking the Dursleys than of his nightmares that kept him from crying out as he awoke. He was about to try to go back to sleep when a whispered conversation caught his ear.

"...Nicolas asked me to protect it," one voice said in the darkness of the hospital wing.

Harry became very still. He was quite certain he was not supposed to be hearing this, but couldn't stop himself from listening in.

"Quirinus seeks it. I am certain, Albus," whispered the second. "He was stopped this time, but might not be next time."

"The troll was his." It was not a question.

"Yes. He is a danger, Albus."

"He is more dangerous loose than he is here, Severus."

"Hagrid's pet will not stop him again."

"And Voldemort?" Harry's heart froze in his chest.

"No new word. He stirs, but I know nothing more."

Harry heard a weary sigh. "Thank you, Severus." The voice paused. "Poppy says you will not be able to teach for several weeks?"

"I can teach well enough." The whisper was almost a snarl.

"I think our nurse would beg to differ. Rest, and recover, Severus. I fear that I will have need of your services far too soon." A resigned sigh was all Harry heard in response, before he saw the tall, shadowy form of the Headmaster exit the Hospital Wing.


	7. Beaters Are Dangerous

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

Harry never did manage to get back to sleep after hearing Dumbledore and Snape's conversation. While there was quite a bit that didn't make sense to him, he was astute enough to draw several terrifying conclusions. He knew now that the giant dog was Hagrid's, and that it was apparently guarding something belonging to someone named Nicholas. He understood that Quirinus- which was Professor Quirrel's first name, he knew- seemed to be trying to get at it, and Snape was apparently trying to prevent this. And most worrying of all, he knew that _something _was going on regarding Voldemort.

He found this news to be particularly distressing because Harry had made sure to read up on what exactly happened on Halloween, 1981. After all, the Dursleys, even had they known, obviously weren't interested in telling the truth, and McGonagall had seemed deeply uncomfortable with discussing it. His own reading showed that most of the wizarding world was unsure what had happened as well, but most sources were clear that both of his parents had died, he had survived, and Voldemort had apparently been vanquished, though all that had been found were his robes and wand. Several different histories make particular note of the fact that no body of the dark lord was ever found.

And Snape seemed to be indicating that Voldemort was, in fact, active in some way.

Harry was no fool. As near as he could tell, it seemed clear that his family had been specifically targeted, and Harry had no idea why. But it stood to reason that if Voldemort had tried and failed to kill him once, the man would likely try again. It was not a comforting thought.

Thus, when Harry was released from the hospital wing prior to breakfast, his mood was such that not even the sight of Snape lying mangled and bruised in a nearby bed could cheer him up. The sudden silence that greeted his arrival in the great hall did little to improve the matter, though his friends smiling and waving him over to their customary spot at the Hufflepuff table did lighten his thoughts some. He also noted, with some satisfaction, that Ron seemed to once more be seperated from the other Gryffindors, who were shooting the redhead some very nasty looks.

Harry was rather relieved that he didn't have to retell the story of what happened with the troll, though he was admittedly a bit annoyed that Ernie had spread it around enough that even other years were talking about it.

"You didn't have to go telling _everyone_, Ernie," Harry muttered after catching a Ravenclaw girl and her Gryffindor twin staring at him. "I get stared at enough."

"It's not like that at all, Harry," the other boy said hastily. "Practically the whole house was still in the common room when McGonagall dropped us off. If we'd have tried to leave without telling what happened..."

Harry just sighed. In his two months at the school, he'd already learned how fast rumor spread, so he supposed it was better that people knew what actually happened.

"You weren't the only one anyway, Potter. It's not like you have the right to hide what everyone else did too," Zacharias added, sounding for all the world as though _he _was the one who had fought the troll, single-handedly at that. "Hufflepuff doesn't get enough glory. It's about time we were recognized."

Megan rolled her eyes and stared pointedly at Zacharias. "Nope. His tie's still yellow. No green and silver." Zacharias turned an ugly shade of puce that Harry had only seen before on his uncle.

"You know, Potter, just because you're the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't mean you're Merlin's gift to Hogwarts," Zacharias said nastily. "You're in Hufflepuff like the rest of us. You're no better than anyone else."

"What are you going on about, Smith?" Harry asked. "I never said I was better than anyone."  
>"Yeah, well, you sure act like it. Trying to make friends with Gryffindors and chasing after trolls. If you want to be a Gryffie so bad, the table's right over there."<p>

"After the stomping they're going to take in their game against Slytherin, I don't think _anyone's _going to want to be a Gryffindor," Megan said into the awkward silence that followed. "I hear their seeker is absolutely awful, and they still don't have any reserves at all."

Ernie stared at her for a long moment, obviously caught off-guard by the change in subject, but a brief scuffling noise under the table and hissed "ow!" from the boy clued him in. "Oh, right, quidditch, yeah. Slytherin's going to win for sure, but we don't have a bad team, either. We might be able to take the cup this year."

Leanne scoffed at him. "My friend Katie's a chaser the Gryffindor team, and she's really good. The other two chasers are, too. They've got a great keeper, and the Weasley twins aren't bad beaters." She turned to glare at Zacharias, who was still giving Harry a nasty look. "Yes, Smith, I have friends in Gryffindor too. Is that a problem?"

Zacharias scowled at her, but Harry cut him off before he could respond. "Don't. You're right, that what happened last night wasn't just about me. I'm just sick of people staring all the time." Zacharias still looked annoyed, but kept quiet.

"That reminds me! With the points from last night, we're almost caught up to Slytherin!" Hannah said excitedly.

"And it looked like Gryffindor lost even more points," Susan added. "Bet that's why Weasley's off by himself. They were really hoping to win the cup this year."

Ernie gave a slow nod. "And... with Snape in the hospital wing for who knows how long," he said slowly, his face lighting up, "and no one else around to show favoritism towards Slytherin... we might even make it to first place!" The other first years, even Zacharias, brightened at that, and Harry found the rest of his sour mood slipping away.

That night, Harry made sure his friends stayed in the common room after the other students had gone up to bed. He'd thought about it throughout the day, but finally resolved to tell everyone what he'd learned the night before.

"I hope this is important," Justin said around a yawn. "I don't want to sleep through class tomorrow."

"We've got Binns, it's not like it's a great loss," Hannah countered. "Besides, Harry did say it was important." She turned to face Harry, her cobalt eyes losing their laughter and turning serious.

Harry nodded at her, and looked around the group, who were sitting in a rough semi-circle in front of him. He made sure to meet the gazes of all of his friends, one by one. Ernie and Megan's dark brown eyes, Susan's pale blue, and Justin's hazel all met Harry's bright green and sobered quickly.

"Last night in the hospital wing, I woke up to Snape's and Dumbledore's voices..." Harry began, and five serious faces turned excited at once. Their rapt attention never wavered. "They were talking about what happened in the third floor corridor- said that the dog thing was Hagrid's, and guarding something belonging to a guy named Nicholas. Snape said that Quirrel's the one going after it-"

Harry was cut off by a chopped laugh from Ernie. "Quirrel? No offense Harry, but the idea of him- yes, yes, I know he's a professor, Hannah- going after anything is quite laughable."

"-and Dumbledore said that Quirrel sent the troll." Ernie's laughter died and all five faces paled. "And," Harry continued, in a voice barely over a whisper, and the other Hufflepuffs leaned in, "Snape also said that Voldemort is 'stirring'." At the feared name, Hannah yelped loudly and fell backwards, knocking over Megan and Justin who had also pulled away. Ernie cringed, and Susan shuddered.

"Don't say it!" Hannah wailed, while Megan extricated herself from the Hannah/Justin pile.

Ernie, looking extremely pale, nodded hastily. "Yes, don't. But, Harry," he continued fearfully, "surely you're mistaken? You-Know-Who is gone... _you _were the one who stopped him!"

Harry sighed. "Did I? I don't know... they never found a body, did they? And, I mean, I was only a year old... I really don't know what happened."

"But he vanished!" Hannah practically wailed. "He's gone, he never showed up after that. If he was still around, wouldn't he have, you know, kept going?"

Susan was more sympathetic. "Auntie said that lots of You-Know-Who's followers went free after he..." She paused, and glanced at Harry. "After he disappeared. He could be biding his time?"

Harry just shrugged. "I hope more than anyone that he's gone, but... Snape seems to think that he's not, and Dumbledore agrees." That statement more than anything else seemed to unsettle them. If Dumbledore thought he was still around...

"Um, Snape said that he 'stirs,' so... maybe, whatever happened, Voldemort," he said the name firmly, though the other Hufflepuffs still reacted to it. Ernie gave him a sour look. "Voldemort," he said again, "might be hurt, or asleep, or something. I don't know. But... I'd rather assume he's out there and be wrong, than think he's gone and found out he's not."

Susan nodded her reluctant agreement, and the others followed suit.

"What can we do, though?" Megan asked.

"Well... I sort of got the impression that Snape and Dumbledore thing Quirrel's working for Voldemort- it's just a name!" he snapped, finally too annoyed at their reactions to ignore it an longer. "Voldemort killed my parents. He tried to kill me. I'm not going to be afraid of his stupid name!"

Hannah looked to be near tears as Harry finished his tirade, and Ernie and Justin both looked put out with him. Harry exhaled slowly, calming down. "I'm sorry. But, being afraid to say his name, it's what he wants, isn't it? Like you're giving him respect by fearing him. And I won't do that."

Megan said, in a very quiet voice, "Well, of course _you're _not afraid of him. You already beat him."

Harry laughed humorlessly. "I'm terrified of him. I'm afraid he'll come and finish the job he started. But I _won't _give in to him, either. And as for what we can do... I think we should start keeping an eye on Quirrel."

HP – HP – HP

The first quidditch match of the year was preceded by a number of altercations on both the Gryffindor and Slytherin sides, but everyone seemed to take it in stride. Even the events of Halloween were forgotten in the quidditch fervor, and students of both houses, and even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, seemed to go quidditch-mad.

"My cousin's a beater for the Harpies," Megan was saying during what was supposed to be study time. She swung her Transfiguration book, nearly taking out Justin, who ducking in the nick of time. "She says that a good beater can help even a bad team win. After all, a lot of seekers are really tiny, like Harry here," she said, grinning at Harry, "and all it takes is one good bludger, and WHAM!" She swung her book again for emphasis, but this time Justin wasn't quite so quick to duck.

With a dull thud, the boy hit the ground. "Oh Merlin, Justin, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, dropping her book to the floor- where it once again struck the unfortunate muggleborn. Both Ernie and Harry winced as Justin groaned. Neither boy would want a heavy tome dropped where Megan's book had landed.

"Looks like a bad beater can help even a good study session to end, too, eh Harry?" Ernie said as Megan tried to help a protesting Justin up.  
>"Pease stop 'elpig," the curly-haired boy begged. "I'b fide. It's just by dose." Harry was just relieved it was the common room instead of the library. Pince would be furious over the noise, and absolutely livid over the dropping of precious book.<p>

"C'mon, let's get you to the hospital wing," Megan said, trying to get Justin to lean on her.

"It's by dose, 'ot by 'eg," he protested, but ultimately succumbed to the stubborn girl's dubious 'help.'

"She's trying out for quidditch next year, you know," Harry said after Megan and Justin were through the portrait hole. "I don't know which would be scarier- being the person she was hitting bludgers at, or being the next bloke over."

"I'd be frightened enough to just be in the air at the same time as her. The girl's a menace," Ernie said with a laugh.

"Can't fault her enthusiasm though," Harry added. "And really, she's not that bad. She's just... not quite as good as she tries to be. Susan could try out," Harry added, lightly elbowing the girl next to him. "She'd be a great chaser. She could just launch that patented Susan glare of doom at the other team's keeper- yes, that's the one- and he'd get out of the way in a hurry!" Harry had to duck a swung book of his own at that.

"Keep it up, Potter, and you'll be visiting your favorite professor in the hospital wing," she growled. "Besides, I'd definitely be a beater."

Ernie agreed. "She _is_ violent enough." Susan stuck her tongue out at him, as he was out of reach.

Hannah just shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're all quidditch-crazy. I mean, it's alright and all, but..."

"But?" Harry asked.

"It's just kind of scary, is all," Hannah mumbled, and even Susan joined in the laughter. "What? It's not funny. I don't like the idea of my friends crashing into each other or falling or getting hit by bludgers!"

"Don't worry, Hannah, none of us are on the team, right? Besides, quidditch is perfectly safe. They've been playing it for hundreds of years, and people hardly ever die."

"Ernie, you're awful!" the blond cried. Everyone else just laughed again.

HP – HP – HP

The match itself turned out to be rather anti-climactic. Despite skilled play from most of the team, the Slytherin players were bigger and meaner, and while their seeker wasn't good, the Gryffindor seeker, a third year boy named Cormac McLaggen, seemed to do more damage to his own team than anything else. Higgs, the Slytherin seeker, caught the snitch two hours into the match, while McLaggen was apparently attempting to tell the chasers how to chase. Slytherin wound up winning 450-210.

While three quarters of the school was disappointed, the result was not entirely unexpected, and everyone seemed to get back to normal- though Justin adamantly refused to sit near Megan during the Hufflepuffs' study time. Hermione continued to join them in the library, while Ron was wisely avoiding the group for the time being.

Harry felt particularly good about his classes, especially now that Snape was out of commission. Potions class was temporarily run by a substitute, who seemed to be quite capable. Ernie was especially appreciative, and had stayed several times after class ended, presumably to ask questions or seek comments about his and Harry's latest potions.

Harry was still getting headaches in Defense Against the Dark Arts. However, now that he had such dire suspicions about Quirrel, he dared not stop watching him for even a minute. Often times, Harry would find himself thinking about his friends, his other classes and professors, and even the Dursleys and Privet Drive while trying to watch the professor.

Another bright point was that, now that his detentions were over, Harry was permitted to join the Hufflepuff quidditch team for practices. At first he was only observing, but after Ravenclaw beat them 350-90 two weekends after Gryffindor lost to Slytherin, the team captain allowed Harry to borrow his broom to see what the first year could do.

"Alright, Harry, let me see you do a quick loop around the pitch," Malcolm Preece, who was also one of the chasers, said condescendingly, reluctantly handing Harry his broom. "It's a Cleansweep Six, so be careful with it!" he warned.

Harry nodded, eager to be back in the air again. He quickly mounted the broom and catapaulted into the sky, whipping sharply around the posts at the far end of the pitch before speeding back to the captain. "Er, Malcolm, are you alright?" Harry asked, worried that the boy's stare meant that he was upset over the treatment of his broom. "Your Cleansweep's alright..." he said, slowly, offering the broom back to the sixth year.

Malcolm quickly shook his head. "Potter... Harry... why don't you take a quaffle up and try to score a few practice goals?" Harry shrugged and nodded, accepting the quaffle while the Keeper, a tall, reedy fourth year named Herbert Fleet, took to the sky.

Once the older boy was in position, Harry once more was in the air. He saw Fleet hovering near the middle hoop, though he seemed to be keeping a close eye on the far hoop. Grinning, Harry likewise watched the far hoop and flew full-out towards it. At the last moment, though, he spun hard towards the center hoop. Even as Fleet reached out to block the far hoop, Harry's shot went cleanly through the center.

Malcolm had Harry take several more shots, and while Fleet was able to block many of them, Harry still felt that he did reasonably well. His attempts at beating did not work out nearly as well.

"Alright, Harry, I want to let my other chasers get back to work. Why don't you try your hand at beating?" He handed Harry a spare bat, and once Harry was back in the air, let loose one of the caged bludgers.

Harry's first instinct was to duck as it came towards him, so the bludger went sailing by- and went straight for the two chasers. Fortunately, Harry's shout of 'look out!' was in time, and the chasers evaded the runaway bludger, though their attack was broken up. "Oops," Harry said sheepishly, though no one was close enough to hear him.

"Oi, Potter, you're supposed to _hit _the bludger, not dodge it!" an annoyed Heidi Macavoy, who as a third year was the youngest player on the team, called. Harry took the subtle hint, and though smashing the bludger around was fun, he supposed, it wasn't nearly as much fun as chasing had been.

When Malcolm called Harry back down after getting Andrew Suthers, who was a rather large seventh year beater, to cage the bludger, Malcolm had in his hand what appeared to be a golf ball. "I got these from Wood, he's Gryffindor's captain. We don't use a snitch in practice since it's so easy to lose them for hours. Macavoy over there," he said, indicating the still somewhat peeved brunette, "is going to throw these in different directions. All you need to do is catch them."

"Without crashing," the girl added helpfully.

"Right, without crashing, especially not with my broom."

Harry nodded, smiling. This sounded just like his very first broom ride.

Sure enough, Harry managed to catch every single one of the golf balls well before they reached the ground. Even Macavoy seemed impressed.

Malcolm, however, seemed to be muttering to himself. "Not fair," he was saying softly. "So not fair."

"Er, Malcolm?" Harry interrupted. "Here's your golf balls back." Malcolm nodded, putting them into a bag, and accepting his broom back as well.

"Harry, I'm going to try to convince Sprout to let you play." Harry was shocked. "I don't think there's ever been a first year on a house team before, but you're ready to play. I've never seen anyone fly like you did today. She'll probably say no," he continued, and Harry's grin fell, "but we're expecting that. We'll try and sell it as keeping you as a reserve. You can play chaser and seeker... especially seeker. Then, we'll swap you in during the matches, get you some real practice in."

Harry smiled at that. He might not get a chance to be a starter, but a reserve was better than not playing at all.

"You never tried him as keeper," Fleet said. "He's a bit scrawny for it, but you never know..."

But Harry shook his head. "I don't think I'd be that good at it anyway. I like flying around too much."

Malcolm agreed. "Yeah. I think we'll want to keep you mobile, Harry. And unless Sprout says otherwise, I want you to come to all of our practices from now on. You're unofficially on the team until we can make it official." Harry didn't think even Snape could remove the smile that plastered itself onto his face after that.

HP – HP – HP

As expected, Sprout didn't relent on Harry being a part of the team, though with much wheedling from Malcolm, who reminded her they'd lost to Ravenclaw handily, she relented and allowed Harry to play as a reserve. It helped that Ravenclaw had been the worst team the previous year- being beaten by them was a serious blow to the collective Hufflepuff quidditch ego.

Harry's days became even busier, between adding quidditch in around his studies while still trying to find time to have fun with his friends. The end of term was fast approaching, too, so everyone had even more work to do.

Despite everything going on, though, Harry did not forget about his commitment to keep an eye on Quirrel. The man seemed to spend quite a bit of time in his office, often conversing with another man, who spoke with a cold, high, and somehow familar voice. Harry also made it a point to pay a visit to Hagrid, who had after all given him his owl for his birthday.

Hagrid seemed both pleased and surprised to see Harry on the cold Sunday morning Harry chose to drop by. "Didn' expect t' see you here, Harry. Thought Hufflepuffs were all afraid o' me. Er, no offense." Harry didn't have the heart to tell him that none of his friends had wanted to come- especially after Hannah said that she heard that Hagrid eats first years.

Harry shook his head. "It's alright. I should have come by sooner, you know, to thank you for my owl." Hagrid beamed, and ushered Harry into his small hut.

"'S not much, I'm afraid, bu' it's home."

Harry disagreed. "It's great. What are those bones over there?" he asked, pointing towards a large, wicked-looking skull.

"Tha'? Oh, it's nothin', just a little thing I found deep in the forest. It's from a chimaera. They're a bit much for mos' wizards, but I think they're jus' misunderstood. I mean, sure, they can take o' themselves, but they're mostly harmless." Harry just nodded, not having the faintest idea what a chimaera was.

"Oh," Harry said. "I thought it might have been a troll or something."

Hagrid gave him a stern look. "That reminds me, Harry. You shouldn't go bringin' trolls to poor Fluffy. It'll spoil his appetite. Nasty blighters, trolls are. Probably still hasn't got the taste out of his mouths, poor thing."

Something clicked in Harry's mind. "Wait... you named that monster Fluffy?" Harry asked, disbelieving.

"Well, o' course I did! Thing's got to have a name, don't it?" Harry shuddered, remembering how 'Fluffy' had almost eaten him and Ron. "'Sides, little guy doesn't give me a bit o' trouble," Hagrid grinned, taking out a small wooden flute. "I jus' play 'im a bit of music, an' he goes right to sleep!"

Harry blinked. Had Hagrid just told him how to get past the thing guarding... whatever it was that was hidden in the castle?  
>"Should not 'ave told you that," Hagrid muttered. "Don' worry about it, Harry. I don' expect you to be going anywhere near Fluffy, you hear me?" Harry hastily nodded his agreement. Harry wanted as little to do with Fluffy as possible.<p>

"Trust me, Hagrid, going near, er, Fluffy, is the last thing on my mind." Hagrid eyed him for another moment, before nodding.

"Good. Your father was often into mischief. Lost count of the number o' times I chased him and his friends out o' the forest. Good to see you've got a bit more sense than that. 'Sides, that's all between Dumbledore and Flamel, nothing at all to do with you." Harry once more nodded his agreement, filing yet another tidbit of information away. Hagrid seemed unaware that he'd said anything of import.

"Right then, let's get you some tea to warm you up, then get you back off the castle. Don't want you to miss curfew."

HP – HP – HP

Unfortunately, Harry's run of good luck was not to last. Snape returned to the classroom the week following Hufflepuff's loss to Ravenclaw, and seemed to take extra pleasure in taking points from Harry. Normally, Harry was mostly unbothered, as he had grown used to Snape's unfair treatment of him, but now that Hufflepuff had a narrow lead in the house cup, every point lost was painful. Snape seemed to realize this and relished each loss, often making several small deductions instead of his typical five to ten points all at once.

Harry's potion grades likewise fell, to the point where he and Ernie were no longer even making passing grades. Harry felt that this was to make up for the 'E's and 'O's they had scored while Snape was gone. While Harry was viciously hoping for Fluffy to get a second round with Snape, Ernie seemed perversely pleased with the low scores. All he would tell Harry when asked was "you'll see."

Harry didn't find out what Ernie meant until the last day of November, when a prefect informed him that he was to go to Sprout's office. As far as Harry knew, he hadn't done anything wrong, so he was at a loss as to what he was called for.

When he went in, he found Sprout and Ernie there already waiting, along with an older, distinguished looking gentleman wearing what appeared to be very expensive robes. The man had long hair, but it shared its color with Ernie's. However, the older man's hair was liberally peppered with grey, and unlike Ernie, he was tall and rather fit looking.

Sprout gave him a serious, 'this means business' look. "Mr. Potter, Lord MacMillan has requested your presence here in regards to allegations made again Professor Snape by his son, Ernie."


	8. Invisible Hands?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

A/N: Just as a reminder, all of my author's notes and review responses are on my FFnet forums. The link is in my profile. Thanks for reading!

HP – HP – HP

"It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Potter," the older man said, extending his hand. Harry broke free from his surprise, and shook his hand.

"Er, thank you, sir," he said.

"Ernest has brought to me concerns that Professor Snape has been grading your potions rather unfairly. At first," he said, glancing at his son, "I thought it was the usual complaints of a young man unable to meet high expectations." He held up a hand to forstall his son's objections. "I knew Professor Snape as a boy, and I suspect the man is not easy to get along with either. However, I could not help but notice the discrepancy between the potions marked by the replacement teacher and the ones Professor Snape graded."

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Macmillan are not the first students to complain about Professor Snape," Sprout said. "This year, though, I've heard from several students that he seems to have a particular, well, bias, against Mr. Potter."

"Have any of these concerns been brought to the Headmaster? The Board of Governors has no real power in this instance," Ernie's father said.

"Yes. Headmaster Dumbledore reminds us each year that a teacher will not be sacked for, and I quote, 'being mean.'" Sprout looked over to Harry. "He also asks that we remind our students that, out in the world, we will sometimes have to work with people we don't agree with. That said..."

"That said, there is a difference between having an unpleasant personality and specifically targeting students," Ernie's father said. He turned to face his son. "Ernest, I will speak with Dumbledore directly about this matter. It is improper for your professor to allow any personal feelings he might have to impact your grades. I would encourage you to perhaps find a new potions partner if you are truly concerned about getting your proper marks."

Ernie looked mutinous. "I'll not just leave my friend just like that, simply because Snape wants to hate him." Harry felt a swell of gratitude at his friend's support. "Much as I would like to receive the marks I earn, I would rather earn straight Trolls than abandon a friend."

Ernie's father gave his son a proud smile. "Professor Snape, son. It's important to show respect, _especially _to those you do not feel deserve it. Doing otherwise makes you appear childish." His smile turned a bit mischievous. "And in my experience, refusing to allow someone to anger you upsets them far more than reacting to them."

He paused, looking thoughtful. "I approve of you standing by your friend, but there's not much I can do for you- either of you- at the moment, besides having a word with your headmaster. That said, Professor Snape has no bearing on how your OWLs are scored. So I encourage you both to continue to work and study hard. Ernest, assuming you perform well on your OWL, I will arrange for private tutelage for you if you wish. Mr. Potter, I would advise you to do the same, if you continue to have issues."

Harry nodded. He hadn't really expected anything to be done about Snape's mistreatment, though it was nice to know that he might have options that didn't involve Snape down the road. Harry resolved to look into alternate potions lessons when the time came.

Lord Macmillan's comment about not reacting to bullying also made sense to him. While Harry wasn't particularly good at not getting angry, especially when he was on the receiving end of an injustice, he had also learned the importance of keeping his head down. He supposed in a lot of ways, he should simply treat Snape the same way he would Vernon and Petunia. With that settled, he gave Ernie's father a respectful smile.

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot to have Ernie as a friend, and that you came out here."

"Of course, Mr. Potter. I could do no less for my son. I know it must be frustrating, but whatever else one might say of the man, Professor Snape is a talented potions master. If you and Ernest can keep your tempers, you can both learn quite a bit from him."

"Yes, father," Ernie said, in unison with Harry's "yes sir."

Ernie's father nodded approvingly. "And Ernest, I expect you to write your mother and I more frequently. I've only received three letters so far this term. If you'll excuse us, boys, I would like to catch up a bit with Professor Sprout before I depart."

Ernie and Harry both gave their farewells and left Sprout's office. Ernie let out a sigh of relief. "That... didn't go exactly as I thought. I wrote my father hoping he could use some of his pull with the Board of Governors to get Snape sacked, or something. When he showed up here..." Ernie took a deep breath. "My father has always talked about how important it is for a man to stand on his own two feet. So I knew I was taking a bit of a risk when I asked him for his help. When he actually came to Hogwarts, I thought I was in for it for sure."

Harry gave his friend a smile. "It still means a lot that you said something. I know," he said, shaking his head to stop Ernie's forthcoming argument. "I know that this affects your grade too, but like your father said, you could have found a different partner."

Ernie grinned back. "Harry, if I abandoned a friend just to get better marks, I'd be a Slytherin. Or a Ravenclaw." He gave an overly-dramatic shudder at that thought. "I asked Padma Patil what she did for fun when she wasn't studying. She told me that studying _is _fun. It was terrifying." Harry grinned at Ernie's look of horror.

"By the way, Ernie, I was wondering." Harry's grin became a smirk at Ernie's questioning look. "Is your name really Ernest?" Harry laughed, and fled down the corridor, Ernie in close pursuit.

HP – HP – HP

Snape was even worse after Ernie's father had his word with Dumbledore. Harry had to constantly remind himself of Lord Macmillan's advice. While Ernie's comment about not worrying about getting straight Trolls didn't quite come true, the steady stream of Poor and occasional Acceptable scores they had received before had become an unbroken string of Dreadfuls, even when their potions were the best in the class. Harry and Ernie, along with the rest of their study group, put in extra time studying potions and working on their essays.

Once Harry was used to thinking about Snape the same way he thought of Vernon, it was much easier to act respectfully, even when a large part of him wanted to lash out at the man. Sometimes, it almost seemed as though Snape could sense when Harry was closest to blowing up, as he seemed to get even worse when Harry's patience was almost gone.

On the other hand, Sprout's involvement and sense of fair play turned out to be an unexpected boon. She had Harry and his classmates keeping track of all the points Snape took and the reasons why, and any points that were taken unfairly were awarded back to the group for deeds such as keeping their shoes tied and remembering to walk. Of course, students petitioning for a return of points that were fairly taken usually resulted in more points being lost. Sprout was fair, but refused to allow her students to play one professor against another.

Harry had taken to going off by himself after potions, as it sometimes took him quite awhile to cool down and he didn't want to take anything out on his friends. Most of the time, Harry just wandered the halls a bit before returning to his dorm, though he sometimes went to the owlery to visit Hedwig. He also occasionally visited Hagrid, as it was difficult for him to be angry around the large man.

The cold of early December, though, meant that Harry was spending most of his 'cool down' time inside, though Susan and Megan had teased him about it, saying that letting them dump him in the snow would cool him down, too. Harry tended to only walk those corridors that had few students, so he was particularly surprised to come across Draco Malfoy standing by himself near one of the school's empty classrooms after his Friday potions lesson.

"Potter," the blond haired boy called as Harry turned to go down a different corridor. Harry noted that the boy had neither his wand out nor Crabbe and Goyle nearby, and so against his better judgement, stopped, and turned to face the boy. For a moment, he thought he saw a faint shimmer around Malfoy, but it vanished almost instantly, and Harry dismissed it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry said venomously, very much not in the mood to deal with the obnoxious Slytherin.

"Potter the Hufflepuff, without any of his useless little friends," Malfoy sing-songed. "You're so predictable, Potter. Just what I'd expect from a worthless Hufflepuff. But, you had to know that I wasn't going to let you get away with that little stunt you pulled at the beginning of the year. _No one_ points their wand at a Malfoy!"

Realizing he was in danger, Harry started to pull his wand out, but before he could, he was struck solidly in the face. He heard a 'crunch' noise as blood started to flow from his nose, yet Malfoy still hadn't moved. Another invisible blow struck Harry's stomach, and he had to struggle to keep from losing his breakfast. Invisible blows continued to rain down on him, and though he tried to fight back, all he could see was Malfoy's gloating face and the shimmer he'd seen earlier, now dancing around him.

After an indeterminant length of time in which Harry was relentlessly hit over and over again, Harry finally fell to the ground. The blows stopped falling, and Malfoy strutted over to him. The blond spat on his face. Harry tried to struggle to his feet, but Malfoy shoved him back down.

"Learn your place, Potter. At my feet. I trust we won't have to repeat the lesson?" Without waiting for a response, Malfoy sauntered away, leaving Harry alone in the corridor.

It was a very long, painful walk to the Hospital Wing. Harry briefly considered going to his dorm, as it was much closer, but he knew that it was likely his nose, at the very least, was broken, and he wasn't entirely sure about the rest of him, either.

Harry didn't see Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing when he arrived, so he laid down on one of the beds to wait. The lights were rather bright, so Harry closed his eyes, hoping that his head would stop swimming.

Harry wasn't sure how long he was asleep, but when he came to, he found Madam Pomfrey standing over him, wand out, muttering. She gave him a very stern look that reminded him of McGonagall as he opened his eyes.

"Awake, are we, Mr. Potter? I trust you have a better tale for me than you did for your last visit?"

Harry frowned, briefly wondering whether he should tell the truth. Would she even believe him? He didn't like the idea of lying to her, though. As he opened his mouth, determined to tell the truth even if he wasn't believed, he caught sight of Snape, who was lurking in the back, near Pomfrey's office.

He wouldn't let Snape deter him, though he realized that any chance of being believed was nil with the head of Slytherin there. "It was Malfoy," he began, but was immediately cut off by Snape.

"Ten points for lying, Potter."

"I'm not lying, _sir_," Harry said through gritted teeth. "I'm not sure how he did it. He was taunting me, and then all of sudden I was being hit. I couldn't see what was hitting me, but Malfoy was standing there, laughing at me while it happened."

"Ten more points from Hufflepuff, Potter. First you claimed Malfoy is responsible, and then say that he stood there while something you couldn't see attacked you? Your arrogance knows no bounds."

Pomfrey shot Snape a scathing look, which seemed not to affect the man, who was smirking victoriously at Harry. "Mr. Potter, one of the injuries I treated you for was a mild concussion, which can cause some memory loss. Are you absolutely sure that that's what happened?" Harry nodded, and she turned to Snape.

"Regardless of whether you believe him or not, he's made a rather serious accusation. I think this needs to be brought to the Headmaster."

Snape sneered at her. "Potter's father was almost as fond of false accusations as he was of bringing his little friends to gang up on other students. Why should _this _Potter be any different? Besides, I'm certain Draco's friends and housemates can vouch for his innocence. Can any of Potter's stand witness for his little story?"

Pomfrey sighed, and Harry knew that nothing would be done. "I've already informed the Headmaster about Harry's injuries." She turned to face Harry. "Mr. Potter, do you have anything else to add? I'll make sure the Headmaster knows when I update him on your condition," she said in a kindly tone.

Harry started to shake his head, then stopped. "Er, yeah. I noticed some kind of... I don't know, like, shimmers, or something, around me while I was being attacked. Sort of like, when you're staring at a road on a really hot day?" Harry hoped she understood his explanation, but she didn't comment further and simply nodded. Behind her, Snape was scowling.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, I'll let the Headmaster know. You'll be staying the night here, but you should be able to return to your dorm tomorrow." Harry nodded, and she left, followed by Snape, who gave him one last dark look before his long strides took him through the door.

HP – HP – HP

"Where were you last night, Harry?" Hannah asked as he sat down at the table. He contemplated telling his friends, but a glance up at the smirking face of Malfoy over at the Slytherin table quickly changed his mind. It was bad enough that he had been beaten up- and still didn't know how- and he had no intention of spreading it around.

"I, er, it was nothing, Hannah. Just had to see Pomfrey last night."

"What for?" she asked.

Harry was saved from trying to find an excuse by Justin. "Hannah, you just don't ask a bloke questions like that. It could have been personal, yeah?" Hannah blushed, and Harry hid a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, Draco couldn't spread the story around too far either, because if he did, the truth of what happened would likely come out. Harry was grateful that he had to endure neither laughter nor scorn- a welcome change from his time in school with Dudley.

He also realized that if Voldemort really was still around, being beaten so handily by Malfoy meant that he wouldn't have a prayer if Voldemort caught up with him. Not that Harry really expected that he'd have much of a chance even had he been able to beat Malfoy the previous day, but the humiliating loss at the Slytherin's hands stung. Even though Harry had been working hard at his studies, he realized that Malfoy was likely far ahead of him in magical knowledge. He still had no idea what spell the boy had used. Harry resolved to spend more time studying, including things outside of the normal school curriculum.

As he'd expected, no action seemed to be taken against Malfoy. It wasn't really surprising; it was Harry's word against Malfoy's, and Harry's word was suspect due to the head injury Malfoy had inflicted.

That experience helped Harry in one unexpected way, though. He wasn't willing to risk his solitary walks again until he was better able to defend himself against Malfoy, or anyone else, for that matter. As Malfoy had said, it was too predictable. So, Harry found himself having to contain his anger while around his friends. This resulted in him starting to open up, at least a little bit, as there was no way he could just bottle it up without any outlet. Ultimately, Harry found his friendship with most of his Hufflepuff year mates growing stronger.

Due to his spending more time in the library, he wound up spending more time with Hermione as well, who seemed delighted that he was starting to study beyond what was required. His year mates found themselves in the library more often, too, to the point where someone had begun calling them 'Ravenpuffs.' Harry wasn't sure who'd coined the term, but was determined to make whomever it was pay for their grievous misdeed.

The extra time in the library had also yielded another boom.

"I found it!" Ernie called, startling half the library and earning him a rather nasty look from the librarian. He gave Harry a pointed look, then looked down at his book and read. "Nicolas Flamel, noted alchemist and only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone." He looked back up, looking awestruck. "The Philosopher's Stone. I thought it was a legend."

"But what is it?" Hannah asked.

Ernie looked back into the book. "It's said the Philosopher's Stone can turn lead into gold and be used to make a draught that gives the drinker eternal life." Ernie stopped, and looked up once more. "Harry you don't think...?"

Harry nodded grimly. "It makes sense, doesn't it? Who wouldn't want to be able to create as much money as they wanted. And who wouldn't want to live forever."

"Or live again," Susan said grimly, and everyone at the table paled.

"You don't think..." Justin said hesitantly.

"Yes," Susan said with a grim nod. "It makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, Dumbledore thinks _he's_ still around. This could be just what he needs."

"I suppose," Hermione said, but sounded unsure. "The pieces fit, sort of. I mean, I don't really believe that is could be You-Know-Who," she said, looking hopeful, "but Quirrel, well, it's enough to turn anyone's head, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "Either way, there's not really much we can do other than keep our eyes open. I mean, knowing what he's looking for doesn't really change the fact that whatever it is, it's likely in the school, right?" The others nodded. "And we know Quirrel at least seems interested in getting it. So, we just keep watching, and if we see anything out of the ordinary, we..." Harry paused, and the others waited. What should they do? Dumbledore seemed to trust Snape to look after the stone, or whatever it was, but Harry figured that if he or his friends tried to warn him about anything at all, Snape would dismiss it out of hand just because it came from them. "I guess we can try to tell the Headmaster."

The relief at the table was palpable. Dumbledore was, after all, the greatest wizard alive, and the only one that Voldemort was afraid of. Just remembering that he was here, keeping the stone safe, was reassuring. Justin was the one to put voice to the thought.

"Yeah, as long as Dumbledore's here, even if You-Know-Who was alive, he wouldn't try anything. Quirrel's obviously not that smart, but he's loads less scary, too."

Decision made, the Hufflepuffs and their Gryffindor friend returned to their studies.

HP – HP – HP

As the winter holidays came closer, Professor Sprout passed a list around for any Hufflepuff who was to stay at school to sign. Harry did so gladly, rather pleased that he wouldn't have to spend any time with the Dursleys.

"You're not going home to your family?" Hannah asked, looking surprised, when Harry put his name down. He realized that none of his other year mates had signed.

"His family's dead, so he's got no one to go home to, right?" Zacharias said. He was met by frowns and hostile looks from the other Hufflepuffs.

"Stuff it, Smith," Justin said, but looked over at Harry, a curious look on his face. "Er, why _are _you staying, though?"

"I don't really get on well with the Dursleys- they're, well, my aunt, uncle, and cousin," Harry said, most pointedly not using the word family. "Trust me, I'm much happier here, and they're much happier with me here, too." Hannah, Susan, and Megan all gave him sympathetic looks.

"Tough break there, Harry," Ernie said. "But I hear the castle's quite nice over the holidays. I'm sure you'll find plenty to do."

"And you can practice magic," Wayne said.

After that, the mood was much more upbeat, though Susan remained quiet the entire time, occasionally giving Harry a thoughtful look.

HP – HP – HP

Harry soon found out that he'd be sharing the castle with Ron, and wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. He still hadn't quite forgiven the boy for his thoughtless words, though Hermione seemed to be open to giving him another chance. Harry supposed it would be a good time to sit down and talk with the boy he still considered to be something of a friend, and perhaps begin to move on.

Two days before the end of term, Harry found himself in the common room studying with his Hufflepuff friends as they prepared for their last exams. So far, he felt that he'd done quite well, even in potions, where Snape had given him a particularly sour look as he handed his potion in. It wasn't quite as blue as Ernie's, but Snape had made no comment, other than to take five points for Harry's tie being crooked.

Before he knew it, it was after ten, and everyone but Susan had gone up to bed. Harry noticed that Susan hadn't turned a page in almost fifteen minutes, and she looked rather apprehensive. Harry looked up at her, giving her a curious glance, and saw her take a deep breath.

"Harry, I asked my mum if you could spend the holidays with us, and er, well, would you like to spend the holidays with my family?" she blurted out. "It's just that I know you'll be all alone here and I hate to think that you won't have anyone except for Ron Weasley and I still think he's a toad," she said, without taking a breath. "I understand if you don't want to, I mean, you don't know my family and my auntie always comes to visit and she can be a bit scary if you don't know her-"

"Susan," Harry said firmly, trying to interrupt the girl. "Susan!" She stopped mid sentence. "I think it would be brilliant. Thank you." Susan's face was bright red at that point, and her smile seemed to split her face in two.


	9. Sight Unseen

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

A/N: Just as a reminder, all of my author's notes and review responses are on my FFnet forums. The link is in my profile. Thanks for reading! And again, sorry this update took so long- I'm hoping to have a bit more regular update schedule after this, even if it won't be as frequent as the first eight chapters were.

HP – HP – HP

Harry found himself facing the coming winter holidays with an odd sort of tension. He was still both extremely pleased and grateful that Susan had invited him to stay with her family, but soon after, the realization sunk in that he'd never really had a proper Christmas, save perhaps when he was still with his parents and still too young to remember. He had also never spent time at a friend's house, given that Dudley made sure Harry had none even when they were little. Not to mention the only time he'd ever met any of his friends family had been when Ernie's father had come to Hogwarts, and that hadn't exactly been a social visit.

The final weeks leading up to the holidays were extremely busy, as all of their instructors tried to cram a bit of extra knowledge into their heads before the students went home to forget it all. Most of the professors made sure their lessons were fun, at least. Flitwick finally taught them the color changing charm, which Harry had learned even before he came to Hogwarts. He still found great amusement in turning things yellow when he and his fellow Hufflepuffs met up with Hermione to practice later that day. It took until after dinner before she was willing to speak to him again, but he was sure he saw her with a slight smile when she thought he wasn't looking.

On the other hand, transfiguration only grew more challenging, even up through the very last class. Harry was quite certain that the stern professor would teach straight through Christmas had she the option to. But then, transfiguration was a difficult subject, and despite the extra work he was putting in, Harry found that he still had to work very hard to keep up. Likewise, Snape patently refused to acknowledge that it was nearly time for the holidays, and like McGonagall, worked his class right up until the last minute.

Snape, of course, continued to be unbearable, but Harry and Ernie endured. Neither expected at this point that Snape would even give their best potions passing grades, but they doggedly continued to try to do their best, especially on the increasing difficult potions Snape assigned.

Fortunately, after a bit of trial and error, Harry had figured out exactly how to deal with Snape and follow Lord Macmillan's advice. Harry decided to treat Snape exactly how he treated Vernon. It wasn't difficult, really, as despite the two men being radically different physically, they were very similar in attitude and demeanor. Harry supposed that, if Vernon had magic, he would probably _be _Snape. Strangely enough, it seemed to work, as keeping Vernon at the forefront of his mind whenever he dealt with the ornery potions professor helped Harry focus on not mouthing off, and every time he met the man's eyes, Snape's perpetual sneer seemed to lose some of its intensity. Sadly, even his best behavior was not enough to save Hufflepuff's first place standing in the House Cup, though they were still in a strong second.

HP – HP – HP

On the final night before the holiday break, Harry found himself studying in the common room long after his friends had gone to bed. His nerves about the next day were keeping him from sleep, he knew, but figured he might as well make good use of the time if he couldn't sleep. The only other Hufflepuffs still awake were a couple of seventh years, who were apparently preparing for their NEWTS. Having seen one of those very seventh years give Zacharias a pair of antlers for disturbing their studying earlier in the day, Harry wisely kept quiet as the pair practiced.

Harry half watched them trade spells back and forth, quickly realizing that neither of them were speaking as the spells flew. This rather impressed him, as he hadn't even realized that silent casting was possible. He resolved to look into it after the holidays, as it seemed quite useful. Harry started to pay the seventh years a bit more attention after this, realizing that there might be all sorts of things he might learn about that could give him an edge next time Malfoy started trouble.

When one of the seventh years tapped herself on the head with her wand and vanished, leaving only a faint shimmer as she moved, Harry dropped his book in shock, earning him a nasty look from the one he could still see. That was the exact same shimmer he saw when Malfoy had attacked him! Harry grimaced as he picked his book back up. If Malfoy was using NEWT level spells, Harry certainly had his work cut out for him.

HP – HP – HP

A light tickling sensation on his nose caused Harry to shake his head irritably. With great effort, he opened his eyes, and found himself facing several of his friends, all of whom looked rather amused. Sally-Anne had a large feather in her hand, which she brushed across Harry's face. "Wake up, sleeping beauty!" she said with a grin.

Harry rubbed his eyes and tried to stifle a yawn. "Huh? What are you doing in our room?" he asked, wondering why his roommates had let the girls in before he'd gotten up and dressed.

"Harry... you're in the common room," Hannah said, giggling. Megan, Justin, and Sally-Anne joined in the laughter.

"Didn't sleep much last night, Harry?" Justin asked. "I didn't see you when I got up, so I figured you'd come down early."

"I think he fell asleep down here," Megan said around her laughter. "There's drool in this book." Harry scowled at her, but she only laughed more.

"You'd better hurry and get ready. You don't want to miss the train!" Hannah said. Harry just nodded tiredly and went up to his room.

Once he'd woken up a bit more, the reality that _today _he'd be going to a friend's house for the first time hit, and equal parts nerves and excitement gave him the energy to get through his morning routine in record time and join his friends at breakfast.

"There he is, alive at last!" Justin said as Harry sat down. "Really, Harry, if you were any more of a zombie this morning, we'd have found you trying to eat Megan's brain."

"Prat," she said without rancor, giving him a shove. "He certainly wouldn't have eaten _yours_, since he'd probably want more than a tiny snack." Justin gave her a playful shove back, but before the pair's bickering could degenerate further, Susan and Ernie joined the quartet.

"What are they arguing about now?" Susan asked without preamble as she started putting some eggs on her plate.

Harry grinned. "They're fighting over who's brains are tastier." Susan and Ernie both gave him an odd look, so Harry told them what the joke was all about. By the time he was done, it was unanimously decided that Justin's brain would taste better because it was nearly new, and breakfast had been finished. Harry's nerves came back in spades.  
>"So, er, Susan, um... do I need to, you know, do anything, or bring anything besides my trunk?" Susan smiled reassuringly.<p>

"Don't worry Harry, you'll be fine."

HP – HP – HP

Before he knew it, Harry was getting off the Express with Susan, and they were saying their farewells to their fellow Hufflepuffs- and Hermione, who was also spending the holidays with her family.

"Make sure you avoid mistletoe," Megan said in a serious tone that was belied by the mischievous grin on her face. "Very dangerous, mistletoe." Harry was sure that if looks could kill, Susan would have blown Megan straight through the Express. Megan just laughed, though, and surprised Harry with a sudden hug before running off to join her parents near the barrier. Not to be outdone, Hannah also gave Harry an surprise hug, but turned red and scampered off before he could say anything. Sally-Anne and Leanne contented themselves with waving, though Ernie insisted on a proper handshake, as his father was there.

"Mr. Potter," Lord Macmillan said as Ernie concluded his handshake. "I trust your term has gone well since last we spoke?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. "I followed your advice. I think it really helped."

Lord Macmillan smiled. "I am pleased to hear that. I hope you and Miss Bones enjoy your holiday."  
>"Bye, Harry," Ernie added as he and his father departed.<p>

Harry turned once more to Susan, who was now waving excitedly at a red-haired couple that had just come through the barrier. "Mum, Dad, over here!" she called.

Harry could tell right away that, physically, at least, Susan seemed to favor her father. Their hair was similar in tone, unlike her mother's, which was much darker. Susan seemed to have her father's height- or lack thereof- as well, as Susan was one of the only first years who was shorter than Harry was. Harry felt a brief bittersweet feeling as Susan's parents both wrapped her in a loving hug, and wished his parents could have been there to greet him like that.

After Susan let go of her parents, she turned towards Harry and waved him over. "Mum, Dad, this is Harry. He's in my year in Hufflepuff and one of the best students in our year," she said without taking a breath. Her mother smoothly interrupted.

"Yes, dear, you've told us," she said kindly. Both Susan's mother and father's eyes glanced towards Harry's scar, but Harry was grateful that they at least said nothing of it. "We're looking forward to having you stay with us, Harry. We don't usually have too many guests for Christmas, besides Susan's aunt."

Harry immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I hope I'm not an imposition."

Mr. Bones shook his head. "Not at all, Harry," he said with a smile. "I was just telling my sister what a delight it'll be to have a bit more cheer around at Christmas."

HP – HP – HP

After a brief and thoroughly unenjoyable trip through the floo- a device Harry had never used before, and, if he had his way, never would again- Harry found himself in the living room of a modest home. The first thing Harry noticed is that, unlike the Dursley's, the house had a lived-in feel. It wasn't completely spotless- there was a book lying haphazardly on the couch, and several quills scattered about on a nearby table. There were pictures of Susan on the fireplace mantle, along with over a dozen other people who looked as though they were related to her. Some of the portraits looked fairly old, and none were new besides Susan's, her parents', and one other, depicting a stern, square-jawed woman.

Susan saw him looking at the pictures. "My family," she said, quietly, as her parents came through the floo with the kids' school trunks. "They... most of them died, in the war..."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, unsure exactly what else to do. Susan's mother came over and gave her a hug, while her father levitated the trunks up the nearby staircase.

Susan sighed. "I never really knew most of them, but still, I feel sad when I think about it." She walked over to one of the portraits. It was a young family, redheads all, with two very young children. "Uncle Edgar and his family. His youngest would have been at Hogwarts with us this year."

Mrs. Bones gave her daughter another hug. "They may not be with us, Susan, but their love is. Never forget that." Susan gave her mother a tremulous smile.

"Right," Susan said after collecting herself. "So, anyway, Harry, this is home. It's not a great big manor like Ernie's got, but it's home."

Harry just smiled. The love in this small house was palpable. "I think it's brilliant."

Susan smiled back, looking much more her usual, cheerful self. "Right. Well, why don't I give you the grand tour and show you your room and all that good stuff. Oh... and, er, don't forget, we can't do magic, since we're out of school." Harry nodded, and Susan led him towards a large, open doorway. "So, er, this is the kitchen. It's... uh... where we cook stuff." Harry laughed, and Susan stuck her tongue out at him. "Hey, it's not like I give house tours all the time! So, anyway, kitchen. We don't have a house elf." Harry gave her a confused look. "Well, it's mostly the wealthier families that keep them. And Hogwarts, of course. But my mum's a great cook, and dad's even better. So, you don't need to worry about eating well!" Harry still had no idea what a house elf was, but it didn't seem important.

The dining room was next on the agenda. It was cozy, much like the rest of the house, and most of the space was taken up by a large, mahogany table that dominated the space without seeming out of place. "So, this is the dining room," Susan said. "It's, um, where we eat stuff." Harry snickered, and Susan shoved him. "Prat."

Susan led him outside via the door in the kitchen once they left the dining room. There was a large, sprawling garden, covering most of the back yard. "This is the garden," she began.

Harry interrupted, grinning. "Where you grow stuff?"

"Prat. Yes, it's the garden _where we grow stuff_," she said, glaring, almost daring him to say something more. "Mum loves gardening, and we all love eating fresh-grown vegetables, so it works." Harry nodded. He also had experience with gardening, though it wasn't exactly what he'd call fun. Though, he had to admit that he might enjoy it more if he was growing food, rather than his aunt's flowers. She pointed up at the second floor, towards a small window. "Our rooms are up there. I know they look small from down here..."

Harry interrupted again. "I don't care, I'm sure they'll be brilliant."

Susan just shook her head as she led him back indoors, smiling all the way. "You'll see. Anyway over there is my parents' room." Harry nodded, and they continued past the closed door. "Broom cupboard's here," she said, opening a small door underneath the stairs. Harry frowning slightly, thinking briefly about what used to be kept in the cupboard under the stairs at his own house, but refused to allow his dislike of the Dursleys to color his time at the Bones' home. "Mine's the pink one," Susan continued, blushing faintly as she pointed at a brightly colored broom wedged between two of a more normal sort of color. Harry noted that all three brooms, even Susan's bright pink one, were well cared for- not at all like the Hogwarts brooms, though these were also much newer. He also noticed that the broom on the left seemed a bit off.  
>"I think the hover charm's starting to go on that one," Harry said, pointing at the left-hand broom, after considering it for a long moment. Susan gave him an odd look, and it was Harry's turn to blush. "Er, Madam Hooch had me helping take care of the school brooms during my detention at the beginning of the year. One of the things she showed me was how to tell if there was something wrong with the brooms."<p>

Susan nodded. "You're so lucky. My last detention was cleaning cauldrons for Snape. Sounds like yours was a lot better."

Harry laughed. "_Anything's _better than extra Snape time."

Susan laughed too. "Isn't that the truth! Thanks for telling me about the broom. I'll let Mum know that her broom's out of sorts. Thanks, Harry," she said, giving him a small smile. Harry smiled back, and she led him to the stairs. "Oh, there's no loo downstairs except in my parents' room, so if you need to go..." Harry nodded, and they went up the stairs.

"We don't really have a lot of magic in the house. Mum's muggle raised, so she likes keeping things simple, and dad likes keeping mum happy, so, yeah. But one nice thing is that the house is bigger on the inside than it looks." With that, she opened one of the doors in the hallway at the top of the stairs.

"Wow, this is really nice, Susan," Harry said. As Susan had mentioned, the room was clearly larger inside than it appeared from the outside. It was very tastefully decorated, but the doll's house, complete with moving dolls, and stuffed animals- also moving, of course- reminded Harry rather pointedly that this was a girl's room.

"Er, anyway, this is my room, nothing really to see here," Susan said, apparently remembering that Harry was a boy at the same moment he remembered that Susan was a girl. She hastily shut the door. "So, uh, the door at the end of the hallway there is the loo," she said, pointing down the hallways as they stepped across to the other closed door. "And this here's the guest room, where you'll be staying."

The room was about the same size as Susan's was, but without the toys and other girl stuff. It was a pale blue color and some still pictures. There was also a wireless near the large, comfortable looking bed. It was a very nice room, but definitely didn't have the same personal feel as the rest of the house. As he looked around, Harry realized that Susan was fidgeting nervously next to him. He smiled at her. "It's great, Susan. Thank you. I'm really looking forward to the holiday with your family." Susan's return smile lit up the room.

Dinner was a very casual affair. Much like the Hogwarts meals, there were plates of food set out on the large table, and everyone was encouraged to to pile on what they wanted. Susan and her family definitely had healthy appetites, Harry decided, but understood why when he bit into the steamed vegetables. "This is amazing!" he said after swallowing.

Mr. Bones smiled at him. "Thank you, Harry. I don't know if Susan mentioned it, but we have a small garden in the back, so we get to have home grown vegetables sometimes. Though, we do cheat a bit and use magic to keep it warm, so we can grow them year-round."

"I saw the garden, Mr. Bones. It was great, loads better than my aunt's. I bet it's really nice to grow some of your own food."

Both adults laughed. "Well, Harry, you definitely seem to be enjoying the 'fruit' of our labor!" Mrs. Bones said, motioning towards Harry's now-empty plate as her husband and daughter groaned at the pun.

"Ugh, mum, do we really have to start with the puns already?" Susan said. "Can't even wait until we've been here a full day."  
>"Why, Susan, you've been gone for months, and I'm sure you've missed your mother's sense of humor," Mrs. Bones said with a teasing smile.<p>

"No, mum, I really didn't." Harry laughed. He'd only been here a day, and it already felt more like home than Privet Drive ever did. This was what family felt like, and Harry decided that he very much liked it.

HP – HP – HP

The next day brought Harry to Diagon Alley for only the second time since finding out about the wizarding world.

"We've got some last minute shopping to do," Mrs. Bones had said that morning at breakfast. "And we want to have that broom looked at. Thank you Harry, by the way, for catching that. I hate to think of what could have happened if we'd tried to use it."

Harry blushed slightly. "It was nothing at all, Mrs. Bones. I just noticed that it seemed a bit off."

"Anyway," Mr. Bones said, "we'll give you and Susan a bit of spending money in case you want to pick anything up."

"I, er, you don't have to do that. I've got a bit of my own money," Harry said.

"It's alright, Harry. You're our guest, so we want to make sure you're taken care of. We wouldn't be very good hosts if we took you out and made you pay your own way!" Mr. Bones said.

"Alright, sir, if you're sure," Harry said, still hesitant.

"I am," Mr. Bones said congenially, but his tone brooked no argument.

Diagon Alley was, if anything, even busier than it was the first time Harry had been there. It seemed that just about everyone in the wizarding world was there doing some Christmas shopping, and the stores certainly seemed to have pulled out all the stops.

"Gringotts first," Mrs. Bones said once they arrived, Harry still covered in soot from his second ill-fated floo trip. Fortunately, a quick flick of Mr. Bones' wand fixed Harry right up.

Gringotts was also quite busy, and there were even more goblins there than there had been the last time Harry was there. After Mr. Bones told the teller that they needed to go to the Bones vault, Harry dutifully followed them to the cart.

"Er, I don't suppose we could stop at my trust vault on the way down?" Harry asked tentatively. The goblin fixed him with an annoyed glare.

"Name?" the goblin asked.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, still trying to sound diffident, not wanting to offend the goblin further.

The Bones vault turned out to be closer than Harry's trust vault. Harry made a point of not looking, as he didn't feel it was any of his business, but couldn't help but notice that, unlike his vault, there were not heaps and heaps of gold coins, though the amount in the vault certainly wasn't tiny, either. Harry noticed that Susan was looking a bit green at the prospect of the cart starting again, and gave her a reassuring smile.

The trip down to Harry's vault was quick, as they were already most of the way there. Harry got out of the cart with the goblin as it approached the vault. "Key," it said imperiously, holding out a small, clawed hand.

Harry froze. He didn't have his key! McGonagall had had it the last time they were there, and Harry had totally forgotten that he needed it. "Er, I don't have it with me. Is there some way...?"

"No. There isn't. Thank you for wasting Gringott's time, Mr. Potter," the goblin snarled, and stomped back to the cart. Harry, totally embarrassed, followed. He was very grateful when no one said anything beyond an apologetic smile from Susan.

They left Gringotts in silence. Harry was still feeling very embarrassed by not having his key, and felt that he'd once again put his foot in his mouth with the goblins. He noticed Mr. Bones sharing a quiet word with his wife, before turning towards Harry and Susan. "Susan, why don't you and I head to pick up a gift for your Aunt Amelia," he said, giving her a pointed look. Susan hesitated a moment, looking at Harry, then nodded, following her father.

Mrs. Bones led Harry a little ways away, towards the ice cream shop Harry vaguely remembered passing on his first visit. They ordered their ice creams without saying anything else, and sat down at one of the tables.

"Harry, you're muggle raised like me, aren't you?" she asked, waiting only for Harry's confirming nod before continuing. "I'm guessing you don't really know a whole lot about goblins, then?"

Harry frowned. He'd paid at least some attention in History of Magic, and done a little bit of reading about them after his first time seeing them. "Well, Mrs. Bones, I do know a little bit. I know that they don't really like wizards that much, and most wizards don't really like them either. I, um, don't really get the impression that wizards are, um, very nice to goblins," he said.

To his surprise, Mrs. Bones laughed softly and shook her head. "I made the same mistake, Harry. You're right, that goblins don't like wizards, and wizards don't like goblins. I tried to be nice, too, at first, and they walked all over me. They see 'nice' as 'weak,' Harry. Most wizards and witches who deal with them on a regular basis earn their respect by treating them just as rudely as they do us. It shows them that you're strong enough to stand up to them."

Harry was very shocked by this. "But, I thought that by being nice to them I was showing them respect," he said, trying and failing to keep from sounding like he was whining.

"Goblin society is different than ours. You have to remember, Harry, they're not human, and they don't think the way we do. For them, strength is respect, and kindness is weakness." Harry frowned. He had a lot more than he'd thought to learn about the wizarding world. "Don't worry about it, Harry. You're young, yet. But it's important to remember for when you're an adult." He nodded.

"Now, let's finish these ice creams and go find Susan, hmm? And, let's keep the ice cream our secret- we usually don't stop at Fortescue's and we don't want Susan to be jealous, do we?" she asked, giving Harry a conspiratorial smile.

Harry grinned. "No ma'am. Best not to mention it." The two shared a laugh as they went to search for Susan and Mr. Bones.

HP – HP – HP

Harry did wind up spending a fair bit of his own pocket money, in addition to the money Mr. Bones had provided him with. As he was buying gifts, Harry would remember another of his friends that he hadn't shopped for yet, and before he knew it's he'd gone through a fair bit more money than he'd originally planned for. He couldn't bring himself to be upset about it, though- it was really nice having friends to buy presents for.

He finally got to meet Susan's aunt on Christmas Eve. As Susan had mentioned, she was indeed a bit scary.

Harry and Susan had been playing exploding snap and listening to the wireless in the living room when the floo lit up and a short, yet imposing, woman with short grey hair emerged, already dusting herself off. Harry immediately recognized her as the stern-looking woman wearing a monocle from one of the Bones' pictures.

"Auntie!" Susan cried, leaping up from her spot on the couch and launching herself at the woman. Harry quickly put the exploding snap cards away before the could blow up in his face. He kept himself occupied as Susan and her aunt exchanged pleasantries, before going over to introduce himself.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said as he approached. She looked over at him, not once glancing at his scar, he was pleased to note. Instead, she seemed to be taking the measure of him, and he wasn't entirely sure if she'd decided that she approved.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," she said. "I've heard much about you." Harry smiled nervously, and waited for her to continue. "I trust you've been being a good friend to my niece?"

Harry nodded uncertainly. "She's been a great friend, one of my best friends, and I'm trying to be just as good a friend to her."  
>"Harry's great, auntie. You don't need to go all scary DMLE head on him."<p>

"Hmm..." She stared at Harry for a long moment, and Harry was afraid to break her gaze, yet uncomfortable holding it.

"Auntie!" Susan complained.

The woman then broke into a bright smile, and Harry was suddenly able to see her relation to Susan. "Oh, very well, Susan. I'm just trying to stay in practice for when you start bringing boyfriends around. Your father isn't nearly frightening enough!"

"Auntie!" Susan whined again, eliciting laughter from her aunt.

"Harry Potter, it is both a pleasure and an honor to finally meet you," she said, finally releasing him from her gaze.

"Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you, too. Susan's told me a bit about you," he said, not really sure what else to say.

"Yeah. Mostly about how scary you can be," Susan said.

Mr. and Mrs. Bones came in then, and the five made their way to the kitchen for a very enjoyable dinner. After dinner, they all returned to the living room, where it was apparently a Bones family tradition to open presents from guests and visiting family on the night before Christmas. "Sort of as a teaser, before we get to the main event," Mr. Bones had said.

Harry, knowing that Susan's aunt was going to be there, had made sure to get her a gift, but was quite surprised when he'd received one from her as well. When he went to bed that night, full from a delicious Christmas Eve meal and many tasty treats throughout the night, Harry was very sure that it was the best night of his life.

HP – HP – HP

Harry was awoken before the sun rose by Susan shouting one, simple word into his room- "Presents!"

He was disoriented at the sudden awakening, but not so much that he forgot that he would actually get presents this year, so he quickly joined Susan in thundering down the steps to get her parents ready for that most important of Christmas morning rituals.

It took a bit longer than Susan and Harry liked for her parents to rouse, but once they'd had their morning tea, the four were assembled before the Bones' Christmas tree. There was quite a generous pile of presents, and Harry was both pleased and shocked to note that more than a few of them were for him.

Susan grinned at him, then looked at her parents with a pleading expression. "Can we?"

Mr. Bones looked thoughtful, and looked slowly at his wife. "I don't know. What do you think? Is it time for presents yet?"  
>Mrs. Bones likewise took her time to think about it, not bothering to hide her smile at the two fidgeting eleven-year-olds. "I don't know. Are we sure it's Christmas today? I think we should call around and check to be sure."<br>"Mu-um!"

"Ah, well, I suppose..." she began, and Susan didn't hesitate. She tossed a present back towards Harry and dove into her own pile.

Harry and Susan had exchanged their gifts for each other the night before, just as they had with her parents. Harry, having seen her stuffed animal collection, had gotten her a plush owl that reminded him a bit of Hedwig, who was rather put out with him she saw the look-alike. Susan and her family had gotten him an assortment of muggle and wizarding clothing, something which had both pleased and embarrassed him. Thus, he was rather surprised when his first gift was from Susan's parents.

"Susan always gets quite a few gifts on Christmas Day, and we wanted to make sure you had a few more things to open," Susan's mother said when she saw his confused look. "Open it!"  
>Harry didn't need any more prompting, though he didn't shred the wrapping paper the way Susan did hers. Inside, he found a small wireless, similar to the one in the Bones' guest room.<p>

"Susan mentioned that you didn't have one, so we thought you'd like it," Mr. Bones said.

"It's brilliant. Thank you. Will it, er, work in my muggle relatives' house?"

Mr. Bones nodded. "Yes, just take care not to let anyone who doesn't know about magic hear it." Harry nodded his agreement. If he had his way, even his relatives would never see it.

Opening the presents took quite a bit longer than Harry had expected. Nearly all of his friends had gotten him a gift, even those he wasn't that close with, like Sally-Anne. He still wasn't speaking with Ron (though he'd still gotten his sort-of friend a gift), and so wasn't surprised when he'd gotten nothing from the Gryffindor boy. He was, however, very pleasantly surprised when he found a package from Neville among his other gifts. Likewise, he and Susan both got a gift of mistletoe from Megan in addition to her 'main' present. Susan had promised great bodily harm on the girl, something Harry fully agreed with once he was finally told the meaning behind the mistletoe.

For the second night in row, Harry returned to his room utterly exhausted and yet completely content. His night was not quite over, though. Sitting on the bed was a small, soft package. Curious, Harry opened it, and found a large, shimmering cloth. Harry saw a small note fall to the floor as he pulled the cloth free. His curiosity even more piqued, he read the note.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It's time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very merry Christmas to you._


	10. Smoke and Mirrors

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

"That's wicked, Harry!" Justin said as Harry donned his new cloak, vanishing before his friends' eyes. Ernie shook his head in amazement, and even the perpetually scowling Zacharias looked amazed.

The rest of the winter holidays had gone by as quickly as they'd arrived, and before Harry knew it, he was once more in his dorm in Hogwarts. He'd not yet shown Susan his unexpected Christmas gift, not sure if it was allowed or not and not wanting to put her in an awkward position with her aunt. He was, though, still an 11-year-old boy, and couldn't curb his enthusiasm, once he'd met back up with his friends and roommates at Hogwarts.

"And you said that you have no idea who sent it to you, huh?" Ernie asked as Harry emerged once more from underneath the cloak.

Harry shook his head. "No idea. The note said that it used to belong to my dad," he said, a bit wistfully.

Ernie nodded. "The Potters _are _an old family, so it makes sense that there would be some heirlooms here and there. Invisibility cloaks are very rare, though. And that one looks like new. My mum used to have one, but it wore out ages ago."

"Huh," Harry said, as he tried the cloak on once more, leaving only his head visible.

Justin rolled his eyes. "I think what Ernie's getting at is that it's a bit fishy, don't you think? That you just randomly get a rare magical artifact on Christmas from... from someone?"

Harry shrugged, and folded up the cloak. Despite its large size, it folded down into a very manageable square that he could stuff into his pocket. "Maybe. But why? It could have just been a friend of my parents, wanting to make my first Christmas in the wizarding world memorable. Well, more memorable."

"If someone was going to send Potter something cursed, they'd probably have sent something a bit less expensive, right? No sense wasting an invisibility cloak when you can curse a wand holster or something," Zacharias said.

Harry nodded. "I admit it's a bit suspicious, but like Smith said, there's better ways to send cursed mail. I _am _curious about who sent it, and why, but I don't think it's anything bad."

"Still think it's a bit strange, but you do have a point," Justin said. "Nothing to do but enjoy it I guess!" The other boys, even Zacharias, laughed. Harry had enjoyed his time with the Bones family, but it was good to be home.

Despite the long break, Harry hadn't neglected his studies. He'd spent a fair bit of time reading beyond his school books while visiting with Susan's family, and as soon as he'd gotten back to Hogwarts, he'd put his hard-won knowledge into practice. Harry was well aware that his encounter with Malfoy before break was likely not the last, and was still determined to make sure he came out of the next meeting better than he had the last one. To that end, he focused mainly on defensive magic and hexes. He pleased to find that, with only a bit of practice, he was able to cast the disarming jinx with ease, and the jelly-legs jinx and full-body bind were not far behind. He'd started working on the shield charm, too, but had had limited success. Still, Harry was pleased with the results; he was, after all, working on spells that were beyond his year. Some of them, in fact, were several years more advanced than his education, so the fact that he was even able to meet with some success was impressive.

He also hadn't forgotten his suspicions about Professor Quirrel, and felt that, with his added knowledge (and the security provided by his invisibility cloak) he was ready to really start investigating. He didn't fancy his chances in an actual confrontation with the defense professor, no matter how incompetent the man might be, but instead hoped to catch Quirrel doing something that he could bring to the attention of Professor Sprout or even the Headmaster.

Surprisingly, his chance came in the very first week of term. While he and Ernie were busy cleaning their telescope at the end of Astronomy class, Harry had caught sight of the turban-wearing professor making his way towards the Forbidden Forest. The man appeared to be almost running, and Harry felt that this might be his best chance.

"Ernie," he said in his softest voice. "Ernie!" Ernie turned quickly upon hearing his name, almost knocking over his telescope. "I just saw Quirrel go into the Forest- can you cover for me? I'm going to go have a look at what he's up to."

"Er, Harry, are you sure that's such a good idea? I'd hate to see what happens if he catches you. And, the Forest... it's supposed to be very, very dangerous," Ernie said, sounding very nervous.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to follow him into the Forest. I'm going to have a look around his office."

That didn't seem to make Ernie feel any better, but after a tense moment, he gave a short nod. "Harry, I'll come with you-"

"No," Harry interrupted, fighting a grin at the warm feelings that came from the realization that his friend- despite being obviously frightened- was willing to go with him into Quirrel's lair. "I appreciate it, Ernie, really I do. But, if something happens, I'm going to need you and the others to keep an eye out for me."

Ernie nodded, reluctantly. "Good luck then, Harry, and _be careful_!"

Harry nodded back and, after waiting until Professor Sinistra was paying attention to another group of students, put on his invisibility cloak- which he'd decided to keep folded up in his pocket in case it was needed- and crept away as quietly as he could. As he ducked into the stairwell, he saw Ernie whispering urgently to Susan, and winced as he realized he'd not yet told the girls about his cloak. _Oh, well, hopefully I'll get the chance to pay the piper in the morning_.

Harry had learned the castle quite well by now, but sneaking around in the middle of the night, with sweaty palms and pounding heart, was quite different than going to class during the day. As it was, he ran afoul of Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, and he was sure that she was staring at him as he went by as quietly as he could. Her great, lamp-like yellow eyes followed him all the way down the corridor, and it was only after he'd turned the corner and passed beyond her sight that he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Fortunately, he reached the defense classroom with no further issue, and ducked inside, taking care to shut the door behind him. He quickly made his way to the office door, then stopped, hesitating. What if Quirrel had trapped the door? Harry would have no way of knowing, nor would he have a way to disarm the trap even if he knew of it. He didn't have long to consider, though. Time was quickly running out, and this was his best, and perhaps only, chance to get some answers.

_This is my only chance to get some answers_, Harry repeated in his head. He tightened his lips in determination and opened the door...

Or at least, tried to. _Locked,_ he realized. Quickly, and as quietly as he could, Harry cast the unlocking charm, barely vocalizing it for fear of being overheard. To his surprise, the door opened without complaint, and Harry went in quickly, lest his courage leave him.

The office was surprisingly well appointed. Unlike the classroom, which smelled heavily of garlic, Quirrel's office had a very potent, sickly sweet smell that Harry couldn't quite identify. It wasn't pleasant, but it was tolerable. There were several bookshelves in the office and very few personal effects. There was a cauldron in the corner, though despite Harry's initial thoughts that perhaps that was the source of the smell, it was empty. However, next to the cauldron, Harry noticed an open vial, with a tiny amount of some sort of thick, silvery liquid still stuck to the bottom. After a brief moment of hesitation, Harry pocketed the vial.

Knowing that he was fast running out of time, Harry quickly made his way to Quirrel's desk. There were several open books piled haphazardly on the cluttered surface, but they weren't remotely what Harry expected. _Alchemy and the Secrets of Life Everlasting, by Vivian Vivati_, read one title, while another, much more sinister sounding tome right next to it was titled _Beyond the Deathly Veil: Rituals and Rites for the Necromantically Inclined, by Stygnis Mortio. _Other books were in similar vein- books on life, books about death, and several alchemical volumes.

Harry briefly contemplated taking one or more of the books, but realized that they, unlike the vial, were quite likely to be noticed missing. As it was, Harry felt, he'd likely used up much of his time. He idly rubbed his scar, feeling a headache coming on, and decided it was time to leave, before Quirrel made it back.

He'd slipped out of the office and into the defense classroom, there to make his way back into the corridor and safety, when the far door slammed open and an irate Quirrel strode purposefully in. The man's eyes narrowed as he regarded the still-open door to his office, and Harry's headache began pounding in time with his heart. Harry made his way to the classroom door as quietly as he could, as Quirrel stopped suddenly, and began to slowly turn, his narrowed eyes seeking intently for something they, Harry hoped fervently, couldn't see.

Harry was sure that, if the man's eyes found him, invisibility cloak or no, he'd be done for. With an urgency he'd never felt before in his life, Harry darted for the door just as Quirrel's wand found it's way to the man's hand. The wand swished towards the door, and Harry hoped with all he had that he'd make it through before Quirrel's magic could seal it- and with it, Harry's fate.

There wasn't enough time. Harry knew it, even as he could feel the magic take hold. Yet, somehow, miraculously, the door closed, ever so slowly, and Harry made it through. The door slammed shut with a dead finality, but Harry was free, and relatively safe. Quickly, almost disregarding stealth, Harry made his way back to the Hufflepuff common room as quickly as he could. He pulled off the cloak once he was safely inside, one hand clutching the vial and its tiny bit of silver fluid- the same silver fluid he was sure he'd seen on Quirrel's cloak when he'd nearly caught him.

"Harry, you idiot!" Hannah yelled as she and his other friends, who'd apparently been waiting for him in the common room, called as soon as she caught sight of him. "What were you thinking, running off without us!" She threw herself at him, followed immediately by Megan and Susan, though Megan added a punch to his arm along with her hug.

"I tried to tell them not to worry, but, well..." Ernie said, looking abashed.

"Are you, you know, okay?" Justin asked, nervously. "I mean, he didn't catch you, or curse you, or anything?"

Harry shook his head. "Nearly, but I got out okay. He didn't see me, but... he knew I was there, I think." Harry shuddered as the adrenaline finally wore off, leaving only the abject terror over the fact that he'd nearly been caught; that he wouldn't have gotten detention, wouldn't have lost points, but instead would probably have never been seen again.

Wordlessly, his hand shaking a bit, Harry withdrew the vial and passed it to Ernie.

"What is this? You found it in Quirrel's office, I take it?" Harry nodded. "I... I've never seen anything quite like this. I can check my potions book tomorrow, I guess. There's not enough here to really test, though."

"It's got something to do with Voldemort, I think," Harry said into the uncomfortable silence. The other first years shuddered, or flinched back, though Harry was at least pleased that Hannah didn't scream this time. "Or at the very least, I found proof that he's interested in the Stone. He had loads of books open on his desk, books about alchemy, necromancy. Books about death."

The silence this time was palpable.

Susan spoke first, in a meek, quiet voice, very different from her usual cheerfulness. "Harry, this is big. Really big. I think we should tell the Headmaster. Or even my aunt. If it _is _Him, or even if it's just Quirrel, we've done all we can. More than we should have, probably."

The others seemed to be in agreement, but Harry spoke over them. "We can't, Susan. We don't have any proof, not that adults would consider proof, anyway. All we have is that vial, and we don't even know what's in it. You _know _they won't do anything unless we can prove... _something_."

The rest quieted at that, and finally, Susan nodded. "Alright, then, Harry, if you're sure. But, you have to promise me that, if you do find proof, you'll tell an adult."

Harry could agree to that. "Alright. If I can get some proof, I'll tell someone."

Susan seemed to accept that, but Harry noticed that Hannah was still giving him a foul look. "Alright then, that's settled. Now," she said in a too-sweet tone of voice, "what's this I hear about an invisibility cloak that you only told the boys about?" Justin had the good grace to blush, as Harry once more found himself facing down his annoyed female friends.

HP – HP – HP

Despite her generally pleasant attitude, it took most of the rest of the week for Harry to earn his way back into Hannah's good graces, and even then it was only with a promise to give her an invisible tour of Hogwarts at some point. Harry thought this was a reasonable trade to make peace with the blond girl.

That tour would take place on Friday. Of course, once word got to his other friends that he was giving 'invisible Hogwarts tours,' Harry found himself quickly being 'booked up,' as it were. Even Zacharias seemed interested in a nighttime jaunt around the school while invisible, though he seemed less eager when he realized that he'd have to share the cloak with Harry. Still, Hannah had claimed the first trip, and seemed rather excited at her first real Hogwarts adventure when she met Harry in the common room shortly after the last student had gone up to bed.

"This is really exciting, I've never had the chance to explore a lot of the school," she said, her words running together as she veritably bounced in place.

"There's nothing stopping you from looking around on the weekends, during the day, though," Harry said.

"Yeah, but this is _different_. It's exciting, you know?" Harry shook his head. "Of course, maybe not to _you_, but I think I'll stick with wandering at night invisibly instead of playing with three-headed dogs!" Hannah said, laughing.

"Aw, no trolls?" Harry asked, grinning himself, now. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.

Hannah stuck her tongue out at him. "Prat. There's a difference between a fun adventure and an 'oh God, oh God, I'm gonna die' adventure!"

"Huh," Harry said, still grinning. "I've only had the one kind, so..."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Come on, we don't want to miss all the fun."

Harry complied, taking out the cloak and wrapping them both in it, even as he spoke. "What is there to miss, besides getting caught out by Filch? It's a castle full of empty corridors. And monsters."

"Yes, and monsters. We'll be avoiding those, I think, Harry."

To Harry's great surprise, the tour was actually quite a bit of fun. Hannah insisted on searching for hidden doors and passages, and by some quirk of fortune, the pair actually located one that brought them out near the second floor girl's bathroom.

"It's haunted, you know," Hannah said as they went by. "Some ghost lives in there. Well, not lives," Hannah said, blushing slightly. "You know what I mean. She cries all the time, though."

Indeed, faint sobbing could be heard through the door, and Harry was quite glad when he and Hannah made their way away.

But it was on the fourth floor that Hannah and Harry made their first truly interesting discovery. They'd ducked into an unused classroom to take a bit of a break, but it wasn't a room full of dust and desks they'd found.

"Look at that mirror," Hannah said, raising her eyebrows. "I've never seen anything like it. What's that written on the top?"

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," Harry recited. "Do you think it might be some sort of spell?"

"No idea," Hannah said. She stepped in front of the mirror, starting to adjust her hair. Harry rolled his eyes. _Girls_, he thought, but he frowned when Hannah suddenly froze in place.

"Hannah?" he asked, a bit worried, and walked over to her when she didn't immediately respond.

"Harry, this is amazing!" she said abruptly, startling Harry. "Do you think it tells the future, maybe?"

"What is it, Hannah?" Harry asked, his curiousity now piqued.

"It's... it's _me_, but all grown up! I'm as pretty as my mum. Oh, I hope it is showing the future! I've always hoped that I'd be as pretty as her... look, Harry, she's there with me, you can see her, too!"

But Harry couldn't see anything at all in the mirror. "Hannah, are you sure? I don't see anything."

"You're not looking at it right, here, come stand where I am," Hannah said, stepping aside with obvious reluctance.

Harry promptly stepped where Hannah had been standing, but it wasn't Hannah's mum that he saw in the mirror. Harry saw his own reflection, surrounded by his friends. He could see Susan's family there, too. And... "That's... my dad. My mother. I really do have her eyes," Harry said, steadfastly ignoring the moisture he felt in those eyes. "And... my whole family is there. All my friends. Everyone."

Hannah looked at him with sad eyes, and gave him a hug. "Oh, Harry." But Harry didn't see her, or really even feel the hug. All he had eyes for was his family, his friends, everyone that mattered to him, there in the mirror.

"Are you really there?" he asked. "This can't be the future..."

"Harry," Hannah said, pulling on his arm a bit. She, too, was giving the mirror a look of longing, but she was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with it, the way Harry was staring at it. "Don't you think we should go? We've been here for a long time. Harry?" she asked again, more insistently.

"What!" Harry snapped, breaking his gaze from the mirror to glare at the girl.

Hannah jerked back as if slapped. "Harry, I think we should go. We've been here a long time."

Harry felt the mirror trying to pull his gaze back towards it, and belatedly realized that he'd spoken rather nastily towards his friend. His friend, who certainly didn't deserve such treatment. He took a deep breath, and stepped away from the mirror. "Sorry, Hannah, you're right. There's something odd about this mirror. I wonder what it does?"

"We can talk about it when we get back," she said. "For now, let's just get far away from here!"

Harry nodded, and as he walked away from the mirror and put the cloak back over the two of them. Strangely, he felt... lighter, as he and Hannah walked away from the mirror. He felt as though he was turning his back on everything he'd ever wanted. And he felt stronger for it. When they later made their way back to the common room, Harry couldn't help but think that he and Hannah had together faced- and beaten- an even greater trial than the dog, or the troll, or even Quirrel.

HP – HP – HP

Fortunately, the rest of Harry's Midnight Invisible Tours, as they came to be secretly known among the Hufflepuff first years, went off without a hitch. Harry studiously avoided the abandoned classroom on the fourth floor, and he and Hannah agreed never to tell any of the others about the mirror.

Class during the following week, however, was an entirely other affair. Snape seemed, if anything, extra vindictive, taking points for any and every potential infraction. Harry and Ernie continued to persevere, difficult though it was at times.

Quirrel, on the other hand, was certainly different than he had been the week before. His stutter seemed less pronounced, at least to Harry, and he seemed both angry and nervous. The classroom continued to give Harry headaches, and he studiously avoided looking at the professor. He'd often heard as a child that adults could tell if you were up to something (or had been into mischief) by the look in your eyes, and though Harry wasn't sure if it was true or not, he wasn't willing to risk making Quirrel suspicious.

In the days following their encounter with the mirror, Harry found that Hannah seemed... unsure of herself. While Hannah was never the most confident person, even among Hufflepuffs, Harry belatedly realized that the mirror must have shaken her more than he'd known.

However, he wasn't really comfortable trying to draw her away from Susan, Megan, and Sally-Anne. At least, he wasn't fond of the idea of facing the inevitable questioning from the other girls as to why he wanted to see Hannah _alone. _Fortunately, Harry saw his chance shortly after potions class. Hannah had stayed a bit late to finish cleaning her cauldron, which had been caked with something that perhaps had been intended to be the day's potion (and was likely scored at least a mark higher than Harry and Ernie's).

Harry didn't want to linger in the potions classroom longer than necessary, however. Showing respect to Snape was one thing; willingly enduring his presence outside of class was quite another. So, while the Slytherins made their way down to their dungeon common room, Harry walked about a corridor away, along the path he knew Hannah was likely to take on her way back to their own common room.

He didn't get to wait long.

"A little Hufflepuff, all alone," the familiar drawl mocked. Harry immediately drew his wand, glancing about for the tell-tale shimmer of his not-quite invisible foe. He realized, however, that the words sounded as though they weren't terribly close to him.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Hannah's said, her voice carrying around the corner. Harry realized at once that it wasn't him who Malfoy had caught out this time- it was Hannah. He ran back towards the corridor outside the potions classroom, determined to make sure Hannah didn't endure the same embarrassment he had.

"Your manners are atrocious, though I suppose it's to be expected from a mongrel like you. Still, you won't be the first 'Puff I've taught manners to," Malfoy said, and while Harry couldn't hear what spell the boy cast, he most definitely heard a loud 'thump' noise as (presumably) Hannah hit the floor. Harry heard someone laugh, and realized Malfoy wasn't alone. It didn't matter.

He turned the corner, and as fast as he could, before he'd even properly gotten sight of the Slytherins, threw off a tripping jinx. He was lucky, and he knew it- the jinx hit one of Malfoy's goons, and the large boy dropped to the ground before he could turn around.

The other boy- Gabbe, or Coyle, or something- turned to face the unexpected threat, as did Malfoy.

"Potter? I thought we'd settled this last time. I guess it's true what they say about Hufflepuffs being thick. I don't mind putting you in your place again," Malfoy drawled, lazily bringing his wand to bear.

Harry didn't waste time conversing, and used the time Malfoy spent threatening him to throw another spell. "_Expelliarmus!_" he said quietly, hoping not to alert Snape to the fight going on right outside of his classroom. Harry only hoped the man was in his office, as he knew Snape wasn't likely to care about silly things like 'facts' or 'reason' as to why his favorite student was dueling with his least favorite.

Harry's spell struck true, and a surprised Malfoy was knocked back as his wand went sailing into Harry's waiting hand.

While Malfoy's other friend struggled to his feet, the one Harry hadn't knocked down threw his own wand forward. "_Petricus Talus_!" he shouted, and Harry winced at the noise even as the unformed, badly cast spell rocketed forward. Malfoy's wand was in better position to block, Harry decided.

"_Protego,_" he said in a calm voice, trying to keep his nerves (and volume) under control. The wand felt... odd, in his hands, and his spell- which he still hadn't mastered- shimmered in front of him. The Slytherin boy's attempted petrification spell impacted the ill-formed shield with a loud crack, and Harry realized that it had not only broken the shield, but Malfoy's wand.

He grinned. "Oops," he said, dropping the wand and sending his own full-body bind at the boy. His was much more effective, and the charging Slytherin dropped to the ground, skidding as his body went rigid.

"My wand," Malfoy said, the shock evident on his face. "You broke my wand!" Malfoy's voice grew louder. "When my father-"

"_Petrificus totalus_," Harry said, again, in barely over a whisper, and Malfoy joined his friend on the floor. Another full body bind followed, taking the third and final Slytherin out of the fight. Harry didn't spare the trio another glance as he rushed over to Hannah, who appeared to be trying to stand. Her legs wouldn't support her, though, and Harry realized she'd been hit by a jelly-legs jinx.

"Harry, that was, well, wow! Where did you learn all that stuff?" Hannah said as Harry helped her up, looking both embarrassed and proud. "You, you took on three Slytherins by yourself. What were you thinking?"

Harry, fortunately, knew the counter to the jelly-legs jinx, and Hannah was quickly able to stand on her own. "I couldn't just let them attack you," he said, glowering at the three frozen Slytherins.

"How long will they be...?"

"Long enough," Harry said, smiling. It was not a friendly smile.

HP – HP – HP

"Gryffindor colors, Harry?" Ernie asked him that night in the common room. Harry had wanted to keep quiet about what happened, but Hannah was having none of it. She was confident that Hufflepuff solidarity would keep word from spreading to the other houses. In fact, Hufflepuff was outraged that the Slytherins had ganged up three to one on one of their own, and the looks on several of the upper years' faces said that Malfoy would likely be in for an interesting week.

"And he stuck them to the wall right outside of Snape's cave," Hannah added, laughing. "They couldn't move their faces, but the look in their eyes was priceless!"

More laughter ensued. "Shame about Malfoy's wand, though," Ernie said in a voice that said it wasn't unfortunate at all. "He's going to be mad about that, but there's not much he can do unless he wants to admit to starting trouble, _and _to him and his friends losing to Harry."

"And he'll never, ever admit to being bested by a Hufflepuff, let alone an outnumbered Hufflepuff!" Justin said, obviously relishing Malfoy's downfall. Harry, apparently, wasn't the only one who disliked the Slytherin.

"Malfoy isn't the only one who'll be mad, though, Harry," Megan said. She, too, was smiling. "After all, I can't see Snape liking his corridor decorated with be-Gryffindored Slytherins."

"In the muggle world, we call that a 'two for one deal,'" Justin said, causing another round of laughter to erupt. It was, in fact, very good to be home.


	11. The Silver Path

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

Despite the amusement and all-around good feelings in the common room that night, the following morning brought Harry abruptly back to reality. It was an open secret that Malfoy was particularly close to his head of house, and even if he weren't, Harry had little doubt that Snape would have gone out of his way to find out who had stuck the Slytherins to the wall outside his classroom. He was sure that the Gryffindor colors would be taken as a personal insult to the Slytherin head- which, of course, they were. Harry hoped the lack of proof would prevent Snape from taking overt action, at least, but nonetheless was already steeling himself for the day's potions lesson even as he poured himself a glass of juice at breakfast.

"Today's going to be awful, isn't it, Harry?" Justin asked as he sat down to Harry's left. Harry nodded, determined not to let any nervousness show on his face. He could- he _would_- endure Snape's worst.

"Well, we'll just have to tough it out then, won't we?" Ernie said, echoing Harry's own thoughts.

"Do you really think Malfoy complained to Snape? I can't really see him admitting to Harry taking all three of them out by himself," Hannah said.

Harry frowned. "No, but I wouldn't be surprised if he had been 'viciously attacked by a gang of Hufflepuffs,'" he said.

"Well, we're not going to say anything. When he gives us detention, we'll just take it with a smile, yeah? No sense in letting the git get to us," Megan said as she took a piece of bacon from Justin's plate, earning her a glower from the curly-haired boy.

"I don't know about smiling," Susan said, "but I'm certainly not going to tell Snape anything. A detention or two won't hurt anyone."

But Harry shook his head. "No. There's no reason for anyone else to get into trouble. Snape hates me anyway, and you lot had nothing to do with it. If he tries to give the rest of you detention, I'll go to Sprout. I'm not sure what she can do, but if I have to, I'll tell her what really happened."

"Snape doesn't scare me," Hannah said, earning incredulous looks from the other first years, causing her cheeks to turn pink in embarrassment. "Okay, maybe he does a little bit. But I'm with you all the way, Harry. I would be even before you stood up for me yesterday."

Harry smiled, and muttered a quiet 'thank you' as his other friends confirmed Hannah's support. He felt considerably better about the day's potions class. It was good knowing he had friends to support him, even in the depths of Snape's dungeon.

Those good feelings sustained him as he and his friends made their way down to potions after breakfast. He did his very best to keep his face neutral, not wanting to give anything away. The door to the classroom opened just as Harry reached it, and, smothering his growing trepidation, he entered, followed by the other first year Hufflepuffs.

"Five points from Hufflepuff for tardiness, Potter," Snape said before Harry even reached his desk. He did his best not to react, and simply sat down, quickly getting his potions supplies out. He noticed that only about half of the Ravenclaws had arrived thus far.

"Class doesn't even start for five more minutes!" Megan said, scowling at the potions professor from the doorway. "And Harry got here before most of the rest of the class anyway, how can he be late?"

Harry winced inwardly as Snape narrowed his eyes at the dusky-skinned girl, who was staring back at him defiantly. While he certainly appreciated the sentiment, he knew there was no way this would end well.

"Detention, Miss Jones, and ten points for your cheek. Do not presume to tell _me _when _my _class is to begin. If by some highly unlikely chance you someday become a Hogwarts professor, then and _only_ then might you dictate the start of class. Until such time, you will be silent. You are correct, though, that Potter did arrive before the rest of you. So," Snape said, pausing dramatically, as though relishing the moment, "five points from each of you for tardiness." His mouth twisted in what Harry could only think was some sort of horrible parody of a smile, before turning his gaze on Harry. "And another ten points for making your little friends late, Potter."

Harry started to open his mouth, determined to stick up for his friend, but a quelling glance from Megan as she stood firm in the face of Snape's diatribe stopped him. He could not rise to Snape's taunts. He would not give the petty little man the gratification, for all that he was considering more than a few horrible fates that could befall the potions master at this very moment.

The rest of the Ravenclaws arrived shortly afterwards, and Harry was unsurprised when they didn't lose any points. Fortunately, Snape didn't take any points from Wayne, Zacharias, or Leanne when they arrived, either.

Harry and Ernie worked quietly and efficiently on their potion, doing their best to ignore Snape, who seemed to have nothing better to do than hover over the pair of them as they worked. By unspoken agreement, Harry took the lead on brewing while Ernie prepared the ingredients. While potions was not Harry's strongest subject, even discounting Snape, Harry tended to be more focused- and thus, less distracted by Snape- when he was doing the brewing, as he didn't want Ernie's grade to suffer unduly. Ernie was, in Harry's opinion, the superior brewer, so he especially appreciated the gesture.

Nonetheless, it was hard not to be distracted as he felt Snape's eyes boring into his head, or as he felt the man stalking by right behind him as he added the diced figwart to the potion. Despite the extra amount of spitefulness, Harry and Ernie were able to complete their potion in good time. They'd even managed to get it to just the right shade of purple, a color that reminded Harry rather unpleasantly of his uncle.

After Ernie turned in their potion, Harry started to relax, just a bit. While the lesson had been far from pleasant, it hadn't gone as bad as he'd thought. None of his friends had been subjected to too much of Snape's vitriol, and they'd even managed to avoid detention. Well, all of them except Megan, who Harry thought really should have known better than to let her temper get the better of her around Snape, even though he appreciated the gesture.

Unfortunately, his relief came a bit too soon. Megan, who was still seething over Snape's rant at the beginning of class, wasn't paying attention as she stomped to the front of class to hand in her and Sally-Anne's potion. She never even noticed Justin's potions book on the floor next to his table, and went crashing to the ground with almost comical slowness. Despite her best efforts to hold onto it, her potion flew out of her hands, narrowly missing Snape, who had turned his back to clear the directions from the board in preparation for his next class.

Snape spun around, spots of color forming in his sallow cheeks and eyes wide with anger. "That will be another detention, Miss Jones, and another ten points for your carelessness," he said. Harry was sure he saw a bit of spittle fly from Snape's mouth.

Then, inexplicably, Snape smirked, and turned his gaze on Harry. "Detention for you as well, Potter. A week should do, I think." His openly mocking look dared Harry to respond. Harry was furious, but then, this was not entirely unexpected. While he could have accepted, though certainly not liked, punishment for something he'd actually done, he was more than a little angry over getting in trouble for Megan tripping over Justin's book.

With effort, he choked back a response, knowing from experience that, if he responded to this bully, he'd likely let his mouth get away with him.

"Why are you such a _git_!" Hannah said, her voice squeaking as her words carried into an utter, shocked silence. The color drained from her face and her eyes widened as the potions professor turned towards her, ever so slowly, looking for all the world like a bird of prey with a mouse in its sight.

Snape's triumphant smirk contrasted with the obvious rage in his eyes. "Detention, Miss Abbott, and twenty points. I wonder if Hufflepuff even has any points left?" Snape said, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "As you are _well _aware, Miss Abbott, Potter is quite fond of tripping jinxes, and this would not be the first time he used such a curse on a classmate. It must run in the family," he said, giving Harry a nasty look. After a long moment, he turned his gaze back to Hannah. "In fact, I think you'll have the same week of detention as Potter does. The two of you have certainly _earned_ it."

Harry was practically shaking with anger. The rational part of his mind, which up until now he'd been paying attention to, was trying to keep him under control, keep him seated and quiet, but Harry had had enough.

He was barely aware as his action as he stood. "Leave my friends out of this Snape!" he shouted, his willpower only barely winning out over his urge to reach for his wand. "Whatever your issue with me is, they have nothing to do with it!"

Snape smirked, a victorious look on his features. "Another week's detention, Potter, for disrespect towards a professor. Shall we see if we can make a full month?"

Harry took a step forward, only vaguely aware of Ernie pulling at his left arm, trying to stop him. In the back of his head, Harry knew that he'd gone too far, that this was a very _bad _idea, but the greater part of him was done putting up with Snape and his bullying. He'd gone too far when he decided to accost Harry's friends.

"I don't care what your problem with me is, _Snape_, but you leave my friends out of it!"

"Or what, Potter?" Snape said, clearly enjoying every moment of their confrontation. "You can do nothing. You _are _nothing."

One of the nearby potions shattered.

Snape took a step forward. He was close enough, now, that Harry could smell the man's rancid breath. He could also see a brief look of uncertainty in the man's eyes. The rest of the class stood, transfixed.

"Just like your father," Snape said, sneering.

Harry saw red, but didn't even think to reach for his wand. One moment he was there, practically nose-to-beak with his most hated professor, and the next, the man was crashing into his desk, looking for all the world as though he'd been bowled over by Harry's uncle.

"Get out!" Snape shouted as he staggered to his feet, his hand twitching towards his wand. It appeared as though Harry hadn't been the only one barely clinging to his temper. Part of Harry wanted to continue this confrontation, but the feel of Ernie and Justin tugging on his arm brought Harry back his senses. He noted that, aside from the two holding him back, only Megan, Hannah, and Susan were still in the classroom.

"Out!" Snape shouted again, and the six Hufflepuffs fled.

HP – HP – HP

"And, er, that's what happened," Ernie said lamely.

Sprout regarded the six of them calmly, her face devoid of expression. Despite Harry's suggestion that he should be the only one to take the blame, his friends had all insisted on being there when Harry told Sprout what had happened. He hadn't expected Ernie to take over the storytelling before Harry could even get a word out.

Sprout was quiet for a moment, meeting each of her students' gazes as she considered their story. Harry was glad that Ernie told the truth, without trying to hide things or sway things in their favor; he liked their head of house, and wouldn't have been comfortable with lying to her. After watching her students for a short time- and Harry was pleased to note that not a single one of his friends was fidgeting, or even seemed nervous- Sprout turned back towards Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I'm curious about why you and your friends thought that Professor Snape would be... unusually difficult today?"

Harry sighed. He hadn't really wanted to tell her about what happened the day before, but he supposed that there wasn't any way around it.

"Malfoy and his friends had cursed Hannah after potions yesterday, and I, er, stopped them before they could do anything worse," he said. "There were three of them, so, I sort of took them by surprise."

"I hadn't done anything at all! They just went after me because I'm a Hufflepuff and I was by myself," Hannah said.

Sprout's lips thinned, and for a moment, Harry was reminded strongly of how McGonagall had looked right after Harry had told her about what his aunt and uncle had told him of his parents.

She was silent once more, and gave Harry a thoughtful look. "And I have all of your words that what you've told me today is the truth?"

Harry nodded, and the others added their assent.

She nodded, more to herself than to them, Harry thought. "Well then, let's see... five points to each of you for your honesty," she said, giving them a warm smile, "and another five apiece for standing up for each other." Harry and his friends grinned at one another. That had made up all but five of the points Snape had taken from them!

"As for the detentions, I'll see about getting those revoked. But... Mr. Potter, Miss Abbott, I'm afraid you'll still have to serve one with me for fighting," she said, still smiling.

Harry figured that was fair enough, though he didn't agree with Hannah getting a detention since she hadn't done anything wrong. Before he could speak up- and before his friends could, for that matter, as Megan was looking especially mutinous- Sprout continued.

"Yes, detention for both of you. I've got a surplus of pastries I need cleaned out, and I was hoping you two could help me see to that. Your friends are, of course, welcome to help you if they wish. I'm sure there's enough work for all."

Megan's angry look turned to one of pleasant surprise, and Harry and his other friends exchanged grins.

Sprout gave them a stern look. "Let me be clear. I do _not _condone fighting. But," she said, turning once more to smiles, "I also do not condone ganging up on a defenseless student. I expect, Mr. Potter, that if you are in a position to do so, you bring any further issues with Mr. Malfoy directly to me. If you are unable to do so... then I expect you to show him that Hufflepuffs are not pushovers."

HP – HP – HP

It wasn't as simple as all that, of course. True to her word, Sprout had indeed had all of their detentions overturned. To everyone's great surprise, Snape was reprimanded for his appalling behavior in the classroom- something that, to the collective recollection of the three non-Slytherin houses, had never happened before. However, at the Headmaster's insistence, Harry and Hannah were both assigned a detention for their part in confronting Snape.

As much as neither wanted detention, when all was said and done, Harry felt that it wasn't _entirely_ unfair. While Snape had been completely out of line, Harry also knew better than to push the man. More to the point, if there'd been no punishment at all, Harry knew that Snape would seek his own pound of flesh. As it was, the detention would not be served until after the next term began- Harry wasn't exactly sure why it had taken so long for the Headmaster, Sprout, and Snape to resolve the situation, but figured it was due to Sprout trying to be fair and Snape trying to be anything but.

As a consequence of the incident in the potions class, Snape seemed to back off of Harry and his friends somewhat. He was still terribly unpleasant, but seemed reluctant to push Harry too much.

For his own part, Harry was smart enough to realize that the magic that had blown Snape into his desk was Harry's own. It was written off as accidental magic, and the pieces certainly seemed to fit, but Harry wasn't entirely sure he was willing to explain it away quite so readily. It wasn't the first time his magic had reacted in a specific way to something he wanted, or needed, very much, and he resolved to look into it more when he had time.

The week following his confrontation with Malfoy led to the blond Slytherin suffering a number of unexplained mishaps. Harry never found out for sure what exactly happened (though he could make a fairly accurate guess), but over the course of the week Malfoy spent no less than three nights in the hospital wing, had lost all of his hair, and developed and extreme (and disturbing) attraction for Sybill Trelawney, Hogwarts' resident Divination professor. He also developed a nervous tic anytime he laid eyes on third year Cedric Diggory, and refused to meet Harry or Hannah's gaze for a month afterwards.

The rest of term was blessedly quiet, though Harry did have a very peculiar dream one night in early April, after a particularly trying day. He'd developed a terrible, almost crippling headache in Defense class, and had gone to bed early. The dream seemed very fuzzy to him, though he had perfect recollection of it. It was as though he was viewing it through particularly murky water, and only able to make out the barest of shapes, though strangely, he could hear everything just fine.

_Harry sat down smoothly, taking a long draw from his strong-tasting beverage. There was a dull but pervasive noise around him as his fellow patrons spoke in low voices or drank quietly alone. He smiled coldly as the massive man entered the pub and sat down at the table across from him. He had been concerned that his mild compulsion charm would not affect the man, but it seems his concern was for naught._

_"Drink?" he said in a low tone, sliding a large, untouched tankard of firewhisky across the table. The giant of a man accepted it with a grin._

_"Thanks," he said, taking a huge gulp of the potent liquor and letting out a loud belch. "Don' think I've seen you around before."_

_"I'm something of a traveler," he said smoothly. He briefly considered building his deception further before angling towards the information he wanted, but discarded the idea. His drinking companion was even more foolish than most, and would never see through his deception. "I hear there are all sorts of interesting creatures in this Forbidden Forest of yours. I thought that perhaps I might have a look for myself."_

_The large man let out another huge belch, and Harry smoothly refilled the man's tankard. "Yeh know, there's loads of interestin' creatures in there. Centaurs, unicorns, arcro... acer... an' big spiders," he slurred. Good. The alcohol's extra potency was already working. Time to finish this and leave, before he could be discovered._

_"Ah, but I bet there is nothing quite as wondrous as this beauty." With a flourish, Harry pulled out a large, dull egg. The large, dull man in front of him brightened considerably._

_"Is tha'... is tha' what I think it is?"_

_"Norwegian Ridgeback. Admittedly, I'm at a loss for what to do with it. I don't have the time to care for such a magnificent beast, but I don't know if there is anyone who could, really."_

_"A dragon..." the man said in wonder. "I could look after 'im for yeh. I can take care of any beast yeh can find!"_

_"Well... I don't know. I'd only want to leave it with someone I knew was experienced with this sort of thing. Maybe I should just get rid of it."_

_"Yeh can't do that! I've raised all sorts of things. I can raise the ridgeback too."_

_"Really. What sort of creatures have you raised that could compare to this amazing specimen?"_

_"Well," the man said, then paused, and continued in a much lower voice. "Yeh can't tell anyone, but I've been looking after a cerberus at Hogwarts." The pride was evident in the man's voice._

_"Really?" Harry said with interest. "A cerberus? Those are very rare, and very dangerous. How do you control such a beast?"_

_"I, er... well, I really shouldn't."_

_Harry nodded, sadly. "I understand. I should probably go, in any event. This egg won't hatch itself."_

_"Wait. Fluffy's really just a big puppy. A bit o' music an' he's right to sleep."_

_"Really? Just a bit of music? That is impressive. Your mastery over the creature is obvious. Perhaps you could handle the Ridgeback." The man's worried frown turned into a wide, stupid grin. "A game of chance, perhaps? If you win, the egg is yours..."_

When Harry finally awoke, he had found that his headache had only gotten worse. In fact, it had been bad enough that he'd willingly gone to the hospital wing to get a headache potion.

HP – HP – HP

The date for Harry's detention with Snape came quickly after that, and in the beginning of May Harry found himself and Hannah, to their surprise, not in front of the potions classroom, but being led by Filch out to the Forbidden Forest. When Hannah realized where they were going, she'd squeaked rather loudly in alarm.

"The Forbidden Forest? But there's monsters out there! We'll be eaten!" she wailed, clinging desperately to Harry's arm.

Filch smiled nastily. "That's right, little missy. Werewolves, centaurs, and who knows what else just waiting to snack on unruly students. Still think the old ways are best, of course. A few hours hung up by your thumbs ought to set you straight, oh yes. But sending you into the Forbidden Forest, well... I do like the Headmaster's style."

In the distance ahead, Harry could see a faint light flickering against Hagrid's small hut. "'Ere now, Filch, is that you?" Hagrid said, his voice echoing oddly in murky darkness.

"I've got the troublemakers right here, Hagrid. Don't you coddle them, now. I'll be back in the morning... for what's left," Filch said, his yellow teeth showing clearly in his decidedly unpleasant smile.

"Get out 'o here, Filch, an' stop tryin' ter scare 'em," Hagrid said, shaking his head at the departing caretaker's back. Once Filch was out of sight, he turned his gaze on Harry and the pale-faced Hannah. "Don't ye lot worry. S'long as yer with me, nothin' t' worry too much about in the Forest." But his own worried look belied his words.

"We're lookin' fer unicorns," he continued. "Somethin's been in the forest killin' 'em." Hannah let out another frightened squeak, and Harry couldn't really blame her. "Now, I want ye both t' stay close, y'hear? Whatever it is, it's dangerous fer sure."

Harry did not feel the least bit reassured, but nonetheless followed Hagrid into the forest. He heard Hagrid's dog, Fang, whine piteously from within the hut, a sound echoed by Hannah as the trio passed the first set of trees.

More than a few students had some unkind things to say about Rubeus Hagrid, but Harry had to admit he seemed to know his way around the Forbidden Forest. He led them quickly into the deeper parts of the woods, pointing out several directions that would lead to various deadly creatures. While Hannah grew more and more frightened as they pushed on, Harry strangely felt a sense of conviction as they pushed forward, egged on by a growing headache. The further they got, the worse his headache, and the stronger his determination to find whatever it was they were here to find.

The first bit of silvery blood they came across caught Harry by surprise, but Hagrid's keen eyes caught it right away. "Unicorn blood, alright. Still fresh, too. Whatever it is tha's attacking them's close."

It came on them quickly, so quickly that none of them had a chance to react. Hagrid led them around a wide clump of dense underbrush, and Harry found himself face-to-face with... something. It was vaguely human, he thought, though its features were heavily concealed by a rough, heavy black cloak. The unicorn was behind the dark creature, its throat slit. The man-like creature brought an arm to where its mouth would be, if Harry could see under its cloak, and slowly wiped across, leaving a trail of silvery blood along its sleeve.

Immediately, Harry dropped to his knees as a piercing pain tore into his skull. He was vaguely aware of Hannah crying out as she fell with him, and Hagrid leveling his crossbow at the heavily cloaked figure that was crouched low over the unicorn. He barely saw it rush the giant man, knocking his crossbow to the ground and striking him down with a great flash of light. While its attention was diverted to Hagrid, though, Harry felt the pain in his head lessen.

Part of him wanted to flee while he had the chance, but Harry quashed the thought as soon as it formed. If he ran, Hagrid was dead, and perhaps Hannah, too. With a grim expression, Harry raised his wand, fighting the nausea induced by his crippling headache and struggling to stand and stay steady.

Harry had no idea what spell he cast. He could barely stay conscious through the agonizing pain, and couldn't focus enough to cast anything specific. Nonetheless, he felt his magic pour out of his wand, blasting into the creature that was charging towards him.

It wasn't enough. The creature staggered, obviously injured, but Harry couldn't focus enough to bring his wand to bear again. He was only remotely aware of Hannah's screaming as the creature practically flew at them. Harry could dodge, but if he did, Hannah would be directly in the thing's path.

Desperately, Harry stood his ground, trying to force some sort of spell out, hoping he could hold it at bay long enough for Hagrid to come to. Just as the creature was about to reach him, Harry's wand responded, and a shimmering shield appeared between him and the monster. He could faintly hear its cry of frustration, and in the distance he could hear what sounded to be hoof beats as the ground flew up to meet him. His last thought before the darkness took him was that he had finally managed to cast a shield charm.


	12. A Call to Arms

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

To his very great surprise, Harry came to not in the Hospital Wing, as he'd expected. As near as he could tell, Harry was astride a horse- or at least, a horse with a human torso in place of its equine neck and head. He could hear Hannah sniffling behind him, and belatedly realized that she was holding him in place even as he felt a great swell of relief that she was alright. He reluctantly opened his eyes, squinting as the headache that had crippled him earlier pulsed threateningly behind his scar. Harry was more than a little surprised to find that, near as he could tell, he was mostly intact, even after his encounter. Nothing felt broken, and aside from his headache, the only pain he felt was a dull ache throughout his body, similar to the way he sometimes felt when he spent the whole day practicing advanced magic.

It only took him a few moments to get his bearings, something he was quite grateful for given the night's events. He was still wrapped in the murk of the Forbidden Forest, though he had no idea how much time had passed. To his left, he could see Hagrid limping along beside them. The giant man's expression was uncharacteristically grim, and he kept shooting worried looks towards Harry as they walked. Harry could see that Hagrid had retrieved his crossbow, and there was a quarrel already loaded and ready to fire.

"Harry, yer awake!" Hagrid said in a hushed tone- for him, at least- as he caught Harry's eye.

Harry nodded, slowly, so as not to aggravate his headache, as Hannah squeezed him from behind. "Harry! I was so worried! You were so still..." Like Hagrid, her voice was hushed, but Harry could still hear the undercurrent of fear in it.

The being carrying them did not speak, though judging by the tension Harry could feel in the man-horse, it was likely that his attention was wholly devoted to keeping a close watch on the forest.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low just as Hagrid and Hannah were.

"Only a couple minutes," Hannah said.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hagrid said, a bit too loudly. Remorse was etched onto his face, and Harry was sure that the huge man was nearly in tears. "I thought I could keep the two of ye safe, else I'd never have brought ye here, Dumbledore's request or no."

Harry filed that little tidbit of information away for later. "It's okay Hagrid, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known. Did the unicorn...?"

Hagrid shook his head, and Harry could hear a palpable sadness in his voice. "It was already gone, Harry, but ye drove off the thing that killed it."

"We are here." The man-horse's voice, deep and resonant, startled Harry, and he faced forward once more. He could see moonlight up ahead, and a dim, flickering light coming from the window of Hagrid's cottage. They were safe.

"I must leave you and your charges here, Hagrid. The others will not be well pleased with me as it stands, and I should not push them further than I have."

"Thank yeh, Firenze," Hagrid said as Hannah and Harry dismounted. Harry's footing felt unsteady, though his headache was starting to fade away. Firenze turned to face him.

"Your destiny is writ across the heavens, Harry Potter, but know that it is not set in stone. Every choice has consequences, and every action changes the future, for better or worse," he said, gazing intently into Harry's eyes as he did. Harry shifted uncomfortably, but kept his gaze steady. After a moment, Firenze nodded. "You will do well, Harry Potter."

With that parting comment, Firenze turned and trotted back into the forest, neither rapidly nor slowly. Harry turned to Hagrid as the trio made their way to the Hogwarts gates.

"What... who was that, Hagrid?" Harry asked once they'd gotten a bit away from the forest.

"Firenze's a centaur. Strange lot, they are, always gazing up at the skies. Me, I'd rather keep watching what's in front of me. Lot of rubbish, divination is, if yeh ask me. Still, he's a good sort. Less of a bother than some," Hagrid said, sending a dark look towards one of the castle's towers.

By the time they had reached the castle, Harry was feeling much better. His headache was all but gone, though he still felt rather weary. Nonetheless, Hagrid escorted Harry and Hannah both straight to hospital wing before going to inform Dumbledore of what had happened.

"The Forbidden Forest, honestly!" Madam Pomfrey said, shaking her head in disgust, as she waved her wand distractedly over Harry. "What's next? Dementors? Dragons?"

She turned to Hannah, casting the same diagnostic spells she had on Harry. "You're just fine, Miss Abbott, nothing at all wrong with you that a good night's sleep won't cure." Hannah nodded, looking relieved, but made no motion to leave while Harry was still there. "And you, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey said, fixing Harry with a stern look. "Borderline magical exhaustion! What were you doing out there!"

"Er, well, I wasn't sure what to do exactly, so I tried a shield charm..."

Madam Pomfrey stopped mid tirade, blinking rapidly. "A shield charm? Mr. Potter, that's fourth year magic! Don't you know it's dangerous to try such advanced magic at your age?" She didn't pause to let him answer, but instead started waving her wand over him once more, muttering to herself.

"This is... Mr. Potter, I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like this!" Pomfrey said as she concluded her newest set of diagnostic charms.

"Er, what exactly haven't you seen, Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked, curious as to what had caught the mediwitch's attention.

But she wasn't looking at him any longer.

"Oh... Professor Dumbledore! I'm glad you're here, I just found-"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey, I am aware," he said, as Harry spun around on the bed to face the newest arrival. The Headmaster was wearing some rather horrifically clashing robes, and despite standing next to Hagrid, who was easily thrice Dumbledore's girth, the headmaster's presence easily filled the room.

"Then what can we-" the mediwitch began to say, but was cut off once more.

"Nothing, currently. Rest assured that I have the situation well in hand. Now, forgive me for intruding, but I was hoping that I might speak with your patients for a short while. I trust they are well enough for a short chat?" Dumbledore said, smiling serenely at the flustered witch.

"Er, yes, of course, Professor, there's nothing wrong with them that a bit of rest won't fix. At least, aside from-"

"Thank you, Poppy. If you'll excuse us for a bit?" If Pomfrey was upset at being dismissed from her own infirmary, she didn't show it. She gave Harry a tight, sympathetic smile, before she went to her office, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Harry immediately turned back to the headmaster, a thousand questions aching to escape, but Hannah, who'd been silent until now, beat him to it.

"Professor, what _was _that thing? I think it tried to kill us!" she said in nearly a wail.

"That, Miss Abbott, was something very, very evil, something I was hoping you children would not come across," he said, looking every inch his hundred and ten years of age. He turned his gaze upon Harry. "Tell me, young Harry, what happened when you and Miss Abbott were attacked in the forest?"

Harry's first instinct was to answer the headmaster promptly, but a thought struck him even as he opened his mouth to answer. His response was much different than he'd intended it to be.

"It was a shield charm, sir. But if you didn't want us to run into that... that _thing_, why did you send us out there in the first place? Hagrid mentioned that that detention was your idea."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up, and Harry thought the Headmaster looked rather impressed even as he let out a great sigh. "I must confess, Harry, that I was hoping that whatever was in the forest would be drawn into the open, but I did not wish that it would be drawn to you. I sought answers, not confrontation."

"Sir, not to be rude, but you still haven't told us what it was," Harry said, knowing he was pushing his luck, but determined to get some answers.

"I'm afraid that I do not know for sure what it was you and Miss Abbott faced," he said, still looking terribly weary.

Harry glanced at Hannah, who was staring at Dumbledore with a thunderstruck expression. The look on her face told Harry all he needed to know about what she was thinking. _He _knew_ that thing was out there?_

The look on his friend's face was enough to give Harry courage to press for more information. "But you have an idea, sir?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a long, searching look, meeting his eyes much as Firenze had just a short while ago. This time, though, it was equal parts defiance and determination that forced him to hold the Headmaster's eyes.

Harry could not say how long Dumbledore's eyes met his, but finally, the Headmaster released his gaze with a heavy sigh. He looked both very proud and very sad. "Very well, Harry. I must admit, I was quite concerned for you after your sorting, but I see now that that concern was misplaced."

_What was that supposed to mean?_ Harry thought.

Dumbledore looked over at Hannah, who had mostly regained her composure. She, too, appeared determined to know the truth. "I believe that the two of you faced- and drove off- Lord Voldemort."

It was a measure of what Hannah had already gone through that evening that she barely reacted to hearing the dreaded name. Harry couldn't help but feel a bit pleased at her non-reaction, as she always had taken to hearing the name even worse than most of the rest of his friends. If Hannah was starting to grow a tolerance for it, perhaps there was hope for the rest.

For his own part, Harry wasn't sure whether to be afraid or relieved. He'd already somewhat suspected that Voldemort wasn't quite as vanquished as everyone believed, but suspecting something and hearing confirmation of his suspicions were two very different things. In the back of his mind, Harry realized that there was something else, some piece to a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out yet, but whatever it was, his mind couldn't place it just yet.

"That's why it- he- came after me after he'd disarmed Hagrid, isn't it? He wanted to finish the job?"

Dumbledore looked immensely sad, but nodded. "I hope you can see, Harry, just how extraordinary of a thing you have done this evening. Not the magic- though that was an impressive feat in its own right- but rather the fact that you were able to drive off Voldemort at all. Even in such a weakened state, he is a deadly threat, even to fully qualified wizards."

"What do we do now, sir?" Harry asked as the silence among the three of them began to grow stifling.

Dumbledore seemed to regain a bit of his usual humor as Harry spoke, his downcast features lifting. "Now, Harry, you and Miss Abbott ought to get some sleep," he said, smiling at the two once more. Indeed, Harry was feeling himself starting to grow weary, and noticed that Hannah was yawning heavily on the next bed. "While Madam Pomfrey has given you a clean bill of health, I'm certain that she'd prefer to keep you here for the night, just to be certain." Harry, overwhelmed with fatigue, failed to stifle a yawn as he let his head fall to the pillow. He was vaguely aware of the Headmaster bidding him and Hannah a good night and setting off towards Madam Pomfrey's office before he fell into a heavy sleep.

HP – HP – HP

By mutual agreement, Hannah and Harry avoided their friends at breakfast the next morning. Harry wanted a bit more time to himself to try to work through the events of the night before, and he suspected that Hannah was still rather upset over the knowledge that she'd been nearly killed by Voldemort- and that the Headmaster had sent them into the forest deliberately, knowing what was out there.

Harry's own feelings about that knowledge were mixed. He was upset that Dumbledore was so willing to send a pair of first year students into such danger, even if he hadn't thought Voldemort would actually come for them. On the other hand, he was a bit pleased that he'd managed to face the dark lord on his own two feet and come out ahead. Knowing that _something _had stopped Voldemort when Harry was a baby, and knowing that _he _had stood firm and faced him on his own were two very different things.

Of course, there was no way he could avoid his friends forever, and shortly after breakfast Harry and Hannah found themselves once more in the boys' dorm, surrounded by the rest of the first year Hufflepuffs- even Zacharias and Wayne, who tended not to spend much time around Harry and the others.

"Spill, Potter. We know something happened last night. You and Hannah never came back to the dorm, and I heard from Blaise Zabini that he saw the two of you leaving the hospital wing after breakfast," Zacharias said, in a tone not far from giving orders.

Harry decided not to react to the boy's goading, though Hannah and Megan both gave Zacharias nasty looks. He didn't answer right away, though. Harry still wasn't sure what exactly he wanted to tell his friends. It wasn't as though he could just come out and say that he and Hannah had fought Voldemort.

"It was You-Know-Who!" Hannah said, neatly filling the silence Harry had left with his hesitation. Her cheeks reddened as she realized exactly what she'd said. The room dropped into and awkward silence, until Zacharias' guffaws broke the tension.

"That's good, Abbott, tell us another one!"

"It's true!" she said, the tint in her cheeks now from anger rather than embarrassment. "Dumbledore said it was Him!" Zacharias continued laughing, but he was the only one, and his laughter died as he looked around and saw the serious expressions on the other first years.

"Harry was right, then," Susan said. She didn't sound pleased.

"That reminds me," Ernie said, breaking into another uncomfortable silence. "I wasn't able to find out what was in this." He held out the vial that Harry had gotten from Quirrell's office. It still had the bit of silvery liquid stuck to the bottom.

Hannah's eyes went wide as she realized what it was the same instant Harry did. "Harry, that's..."

Harry nodded grimly. "Unicorn blood. The same stuff that Voldemort was after." He ignored the reaction from his friends at the name, but was pleased that Hannah still only shuddered a bit this time, as she had last night.

"So does that mean that Quirrell's working with You-Know-Who?" Justin asked, sounding very much as if he did not want to know the answer.

Harry nodded again. His hand tightened on his wand of its own volition. This man was helping the monster that had killed his parents. That had tried to kill him, and tried again just last night. Before he knew it, Harry was on his feet, his wand gripped so tightly that he could feel, in a detached sort of way, the pain of it pressing into his palm. He was only barely aware of sparks flickering out of the end of his wand.

"Harry," Susan said hesitantly. Her eyes were wide as she half-extended a hand towards him. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Voldemort killed my parents," Harry said in a voice that he only vaguely recognized as his own. "He tried to kill me. He tried to kill Hannah and Hagrid. And Quirrell's helping him." Harry's wand hand twitched as he felt his anger bubbling up.

"Harry... Harry, you're scaring me," Sally-Anne said. Harry realized that all of his friends were staring at him with wide eyes.

He took a deep breath, and released his hold on his wand. He still felt the urge to go running after Quirrell, to confront him and make him face justice for what he'd done and what he was doing, but the anger was manageable now.

"I'm sorry. It's just... Voldemort's taken so much from me, and Quirrell's _helping _him!" He took another deep breath. "We can't just let him. We know what he's doing, and we know what he's ultimately after, yeah?"

Susan gave Harry a pointed look. "Harry, you promised that if we found proof, we'd take it to a professor." Most of the rest nodded, looking relieved, but Hannah seemed unsure. _She must have been really shaken by Dumbledore last night_, Harry thought.

Harry sighed. He _had _promised. "Alright, fine, we'll go tell Sprout. But if she doesn't do anything, we need to figure out how to deal with this ourselves."

Harry stood up, gathering his wand and the potion vial. Susan stood as well. "Just in case," she said as he gave her a questioning look. He nodded, and the two left. Harry was glad that Hannah remained behind- he hoped that she'd be able to quell any doubts about it being Voldemort who had attacked them in the forest. After all, she was there too.

Harry's first instinct had been to go directly to Dumbledore, but the knowledge that he'd knowingly sent two 11-year-olds into potentially mortal danger still burned its way across his mind. Unbidden, the thought occurred to him that Dumbledore might already know about Quirrell, and much as Harry and Hannah had been bait in the forest, Quirrell could very well be there for the very reason that he was serving Voldemort.

The other heads of house were also out of the question. Snape might not be actively trying to kill Harry, but it was obvious that he had no intention of doing anything to help him, and Harry thought that it was possible he might ignore the threat posed by Quirrell out of mere spite. Harry wasn't sure about McGonagall or Flitwick, though. McGonagall seemed like the sort who would go to any lengths to protect her students, but Harry didn't know her well enough to know if he'd be able to persuade her. Flitwick, on the other hand, Harry thought he might be able to convince, but wasn't sure what the diminutive professor could do against such a threat.

Sprout, on the other hand, was his head of house, and Harry thought that he and Susan together might be able to convince her,. She in turn wouldn't rest until Quirrell was gone from the school, no matter what Dumbledore thought of the matter. His mind made up, he led Susan to Sprout's office.

Fortunately, Sprout wasn't otherwise occupied when Harry and Susan arrived. Harry had a brief, terrible thought of walking in on a meeting between Sprout, Quirrell, and Snape, and shook his head to clear it.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Bones, what can I do for you?" Sprout asked, smiling warmly at the pair and motioning for them to sit. Harry hesitated for a moment, not sure if he could bring himself to sit down when he was so wound up, but finally, at a look from Susan, took a seat.

Harry put the vial down on Sprout's desk. "This is unicorn blood," he said. Sprout's thick eyebrows shot up, becoming almost invisible behind her low bangs. "I found it in Quirrell's office last term. Ernie had been trying to find out what it was, but we didn't know until after detention in the forest last night." Harry took a deep breath. "Voldemort," he said, not pausing as Sprout started at the name, "was using it for something, and it looks like Quirrell's been helping him. We found a lot of books on the dark arts and eternal life and stuff in his office when we found the blood..."

Sprout just sat there, staring at him for what seemed like an awfully long time. Harry and Susan both started to fidget uncomfortably before Sprout seemed to come back to herself. "Forest? The _Forbidden _Forest? You and Hannah both?" Harry nodded, feeling rather confused at Sprout's line of questioning. Her lips tightened, and Harry thought she looked rather like McGonagall in that moment. "I see. Rest assured that I will be speaking rather severely with the Headmaster about this. First years in the Forbidden Forest!" She shook her head. "Now, start at the beginning, and tell me exactly what's going on with Quirrell and... and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

So Harry did. He told her everything, from his and Ron's meeting with the three-headed dog up until their realization that morning about the unicorn blood. He only left out the parts that he thought his friends might get in trouble over, and left out his possession of an invisibility cloak as well.

"You did very well in bringing this to me," she said once Harry was done. "Obviously Quirrell will not be permitted to remain in the school, if I have anthing to say about it. I'm so proud of you, and all of your friends. I shudder to think of what might have happened if you hadn't found out what was going on. Points... seem inadequate for something like this. I'm going to see about getting the lot of you awards for service to the school." Both Susan and Harry brightened, pleased that something was going to be done, and the school would be kept safe.

Susan grinned at Sprout. "Professor, we definitely wouldn't mind some points, too. Especially with Snape having a go at Harry all the time and taking points for nothing."

Sprout frowned at the reminder of Snape's behavior, and nodded at Susan. "Right you are, Miss Bones. Right you are." She gave Susan and Harry a tight smile. "I should check the standings first, just to make sure I give a fair amount. But first thing's first. You two go back to the common room. I don't want any of you wandering the halls until after this is dealt with, you hear?" Harry and Susan both nodded. "Good, off you go, then. And thank you. You've done well. Marvelously. Well beyond anything anyone could have expected of you. I've never been prouder of any of my students than I am of my first years today." With that, the two first years went back to their common room, secure in the knowledge that Quirrell had been dealt with, and hopeful that without his agent, Voldemort would be unable to secure access to the Stone.

HP – HP – HP

When lunch came, Harry was stunned to find that Quirrell was still seated at the teacher's table. He was, in fact, speaking animatedly with Sprout. On the other hand, Harry noticed that Dumbledore did not seem to be present at all, nor was Hagrid.

The other first years were shocked as well. "What happened?" Megan asked, staring unabashedly at the chatting teachers. "She believed you, didn't she? Do you think she's gathering more proof?"

Harry rubbed his head, feeling the beginnings of yet another headache coming on. "I'm not sure. She seemed determined to see him gone when Susan and I left her office this morning."

"Dumbledore's gone too. Wasn't he just here this morning?" Ernie said.

"It's awfully fishy, isn't it?" Hannah said, her gaze not leaving the vacant head seat.

Justin looked at her oddly. "What do you mean, Hannah? It's not like it's the first time the Headmaster hasn't been here for a meal or two."

Hannah frowned. "But it's all coming together now, isn't it? Quirrell's found out, and suddenly Sprout's all chummy with him. And now Dumbledore's gone too."

Susan nodded, looking a bit reluctant. "We should talk to Sprout before we do anything drastic though. Find out what happened, why she's suddenly being so friendly with Quirrell."

The first years finished their lunch in a tense silence. Harry knew that this was beyond all of them, and that really, none of them should even be involved, himself included. At the same time, though, he realized that there was no choice but to be involved. There was no one else who would step in, and Harry knew that he couldn't just stand by and let his parents' murderer win, not when he could try to stop him.

After lunch, Susan went to meet Hermione in the library, claiming that she wanted to see if they could find any further answers in the short time they had, while Harry and Ernie went to Sprout's office.

They once again found their head of house by herself, and Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He didn't want to consider what might have happened if Quirrell had been there.

"Come in, come in, have a seat," she said, motioning the boys to sit down. Harry hesitated a moment, feeling oddly reluctant, but finally was seated after Ernie took his own seat. "Now, I know why you boys are here. I want you both to rest assured that I took your concerns very seriously. However, I spoke with Professor Quirrell, and realized it was all a harmless misunderstanding. He is, after all, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and with all that's been going on, he's been doing a bit of research of his own. Nothing at all to be worried about!" She smiled widely at them, trying to look reassuring.

Harry was quiet, but his thoughts were racing. That morning, Sprout had been all ready to crucify Quirrell, and now she was justifying the proof of his wrongdoing. The worst part was that Harry could almost see how it might be believable. His gut, however, was telling him that something was seriously wrong.

"In fact, we should all go see Professor Quirrell. I'm sure he'd love the chance to clear the air with you personally, Mr. Potter."

There was nothing Harry desired less than to be led to Quirrell, and he was sure, now, that for whatever reason, Sprout was also working with the enemy. The real question was why?

"No thank you, Professor," he said, trying his very best to keep his voice even and unconcerned. "I'm sorry that we were wrong. I hope we didn't bother Professor Quirrell too much?" Ernie stared at his as though he'd suddenly sprouted a head of Malfoy hair.

Sprout smiled benignly at the boys. "Not at all, Mr. Potter. I'm sure he understands how such a misunderstanding could occurr. I'm just glad we could clear everything up."

Harry nodded, no longer trusting his voice, and quietly departed Sprout's office, a thoroughly confused Ernie in tow.

HP – HP – HP

"It's got to be tonight," Harry said once the girls joined him, Justin, and Ernie in the boys' dorm. Susan was not with them, and Harry was getting worried, but he dared not wait any longer- nor did he think it a good idea to mount a search, not when it was very, very likely that Quirrell was keeping an eye out for them. It was certainly possible that she was still in the library with Hermione, but Harry didn't really think that was the case, for all that the two girls could get absorbed in their studies. "Dumbledore's gone, and he knows that we're onto him now. He knows that we know about the unicorn blood. This is the best chance he's going to get."

Justin let out a ragged breath, and Ernie nodded solemnly. Megan and Hannah both looked determined, but Harry could see that there was more than a little fear there, too.

"What can we do, though? We can't expect to fight a fully qualified wizard, and we don't even have any proof anymore, since Sprout has it now," Justin said.

"We could try to reach Dumbledore," Hannah said, sounding very reluctant.

"He _is _the only one that You-Know-Who was ever afraid of," Ernie said.

"He's going to go for the Stone, right? Why don't we beat him to it?" Megan said.

"What about the dog? What about the traps? I'm sure there's loads of protections and enchantments protecting it," Justin said.

"What else can we do?" Harry said, looking around at his assembled friends. "We can try to reach Dumbledore- and I think we should- but I don't know if he'd get here in time. That's all assuming we can find a way to contact him in the first place. In the meantime, Quirrell's going to go after the Stone, and if he gets it, that means Voldemort gets it."

"Eternal life. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named living forever. A reign of terror that never ends," Ernie said in a subdued whisper.

Harry nodded. He looked around at the frightened faces of his friends, and was forcibly reminded of the fact that he, and all of them, were kids. They shouldn't have to be dealing with this. But...

"There's no one else," he said aloud. "If we don't fight, no one will. And Voldemort wins."

Their agreement was reluctant. Frightened. But one and all, his friends made the choice to stand with him against Quirrell and Voldemort.

They had to wait awhile longer, until the common room was empty. There was no way the upper years would let a bunch of firsties sneak out after curfew, and none of them could come up with a good enough excuse to justify their leaving.

Harry's invisibility cloak was not big enough to cover all five of them, but he decided that wasn't going to be an issue. He looked over at Hannah as they reached the exit to the common room. It was close to midnight, but all of the first years were too wired to be tired. "Hannah, I need you to go and try to contact Dumbledore, and then try to find Susan," he said.

"Huh? Why me?" Hannah asked, looking confused.

Harry took a deep breath, well aware that the others were watching him intently. "Because... if we fail, you're the only one who will know what happened. You saw him. You faced him. So if we don't come back... you'll be safe, and you can make sure everyone knows."

Hannah's lower lip trembled, and she appeared to be near tears. She threw her arms around Harry, hugging him fiercely. "Harry, be careful! You'd better come back!" She released him as abruptly as she'd clung to him, and fled down the corridor. Harry couldn't help but feel relieved that at least one of his friends would make it.

He took a deep breath, and threw the cloak over himself and the others. There was no turning back now.


	13. His Greatest Fear

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional. The quote attributed to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone is directly quoted from said book and is also the property of JK Rowling and Scholastic and so on.

HP – HP – HP

The four first years made their way towards the forbidden corridor, none of them daring to speak. Their breathing was short and ragged, but that, too, was kept quiet. There were worse things than Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling the night. Their footsteps echoed softly down the empty halls, and every scuff of a show on stone nearly caused Harry to wince. He was very much aware that each noise could be the one that gave them away.

By some stroke of fortune, Harry and his friends made it safely to the door that led to Hagrid's pet. Harry concentrated hard, waving his wand in the required motions for the unlocking spell. He barely held in the relieved sigh when he heard the tell-tale click of the door unlocking. They hadn't increased the protections on the door.

As quietly as they could, the first years slipped into the room. They let the door shut behind them- there was no going back.

Harry turned his gaze to the massive monster that awaited them, and would have laughed if the situation wasn't so dire. Fluffy was on its back, with all four paws stuck straight up towards the ceiling, occasionally batting at something unseen. It's three heads were snoring softly, and the center head had a copious amount of drool leaking to the floor.

"That is the most horrifyingly cute thing I've ever seen," Megan said in her quietest whisper as the other Hufflepuffs gaped.

"You and Ron Weasley _survived _that thing?" Justin asked, his voice breaking into a higher pitch- though thankfully still a low volume. Fluffy snorted in its sleep, causing the four to back up as one.

"How are we supposed to get past that thing? It's asleep on the trap door," Ernie said in a low tone, pointing ahead to the right, where one of Fluffy's heads was firmly planted on the trap door.

"I think we'll have to wake it up and lead it away from the door," Harry said grimly.

"Harry, I should point out that your plan is horrible," Ernie said, his eyes still fixed upon Fluffy.

"Not sure what else we can do. Unless you think we can move its head without waking it up," Justin said, though the greenish tint to his face said that he liked the plan as little as Ernie did.

"I can try to levitate its head, but I'm pretty sure it'll wake up if I do that. And it's pretty big. I'm not sure I'll even be able to lift it," Harry said, frowning intently at Hagrid's beast.

Megan sighed- quietly. "If we're going to do it, let's do it. But we should split up a bit, make it harder for it catch us if it wakes up, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Ready?"

Megan, Justin, and Ernie moved from under the invisibility cloak, which Harry quickly stowed away, and took up positions around the room. As they moved about, Harry noticed that Fluffy's snores were starting to become softer.

Once the three were in position, Harry focused as intently as he could on the levitation spell. "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _he said, his voice nearly a shout as he put everything he had into the spell. He knew that speaking louder- or shouting- didn't enhance the power of most spells, but he was far too tense to regulate his volume as he poured as much strength as he could into the spell.

Fluffy's head- at least, the one that was atop the trap door- shot straight up, jerking its body upwards as well. Unfortunately, while Harry had successfully levitated the head from the trap door, the rest of the monster was still firmly on the ground. _At least it's still on its back_, Harry thought.

Justin, who was closest to the trap door, sprang into action, loudly casting an unlocking charm as he ran towards it. Harry considered that to be a good idea, as they had no way of knowing if the door was locked or not. Justin threw the trap door open and dove through, a shouted "Hurry!" following the boy into the darkness.

Ernie was next, and had already started moving as soon as Harry cast his spell. He wasn't as fast as Justin, though, and had to dodge the other two upside down heads as he ran towards the now open trap door. Harry winced as he saw the dog catch a piece of Ernie's robe, but Ernie was moving fast enough that Fluffy wound up simply tearing a chunk off of the robe, and Ernie was propelled head first through the hole in the floor.

Unfortunately, Megan and Harry were not fast enough. Though Fluffy was still upside down, and seemed to be held in such a position by Harry's levitation spell holding its head aloft, it was still thrashing about enough that any run towards the trap door was an iffy proposition at best.

Megan rejoined Harry, who was still maintaining his spell, near the wall. They were just out of range of Fluffy's snarling heads, though it was a near thing.

"Got any more ideas, Harry?" she said, rolling her eyes towards the angered dog as she pointed her wand at it.

Harry's thoughts raced as he struggled to hold his spell. It was already quite taxing to lift something as heavy as Fluffy's head and neck. Now that it was actively struggling to free itself, it was much, much harder to maintain his focus and strength. The only thing he knew about the dog, he'd merely dreamed of. True, it was a realistic dream, but Harry wasn't sure that things were so desperate that he'd have to rely on a dream to save them.

The head he was holding jerked several feet towards them as Harry's focus started to slip. Perhaps it _was _that desperate after all.

"Music," he blurted as he redoubled his efforts to hold Fluffy in place. "Might put it to sleep!"

If Megan was surprised by this information, she was too worried about the now much closer Fluffy to show it. To Harry's very great surprise, she started singing a silly sounding song about a wand. Harry didn't recognize the song- his studies about the wizarding world thus far had focused more on magic, and the last war- but he had a sneaking suspicion that the song was saying something other than what it seemed.

Fortunately, either Megan's singing was quite good, or Fluffy didn't really care what sort of music it heard. Slowly, the heads began to sway in time with Megan's song, and Fluffy's eyelids started to droop. Harry and Megan made their way to the trap door as quickly as they dared, and jumped down through the trap door.

They didn't have far to fall. Harry and Megan impacted on some sort of soft, slimy substance that immediately gave way beneath them, causing them to sink several feet into it. It was nearly pitch black- the only light provided was the dim illumination from the trap door above. Harry could only barely make out the top of Megan's head- the rest of her had sunk into whatever it was they were standing in. Nearby, he could see Justin struggling mightily to free himself. Just beyond, Harry could see Ernie's feet kicking in the air, and he could hear Ernie's muffled voice coming from below the surface.

Harry's wand was still gripped firmly in his hand, but he had to struggle to free it from the thing he was caught in. As he did, he felt its grasp on him grow tighter. It wasn't quite painful, yet, but he suspected that its grip would only grow stronger.

Megan was quicker than he; her wand was held aloft, and a muffled "_Lumos_" from the girl lit up the small room.

Harry and his friends were trapped in some sort of plant. Harry knew that herbology was _not _his strong point by any means, and try though he might, Harry couldn't think of whatever this thing was.

In the meantime, he decided that the sooner he got this thing to let him go, the better. Harry struggled as much as he could, trying his very best to get free, or at least get his other arm free of it. It seemed as though the more he struggled, though, the fiercer the plant's grasp became. Soon, it had wrapped up his entire body, save for his wand arm. In those few moments, the plant had snaked several vines around Harry's head, covering his mouth entirely. Its tight grip on his chest made breathing difficult, though he could still draw air in through his nose- at least, for now.

His friends were faring no better. Megan shrieked loudly as the plant slowly drew her down, prompting renewed snarls from the beast above them. Ernie's muffled complaints were sounding more frantic and his kicking feet more erratic, and Justin was thoroughly trapped as well, unable to move anything other than his head.

"Fire!" Justin shouted as his own struggles with the plant grew more frantic. "It's devil's snare, it's afraid of fire!"

Harry needed no more prompting. If they didn't try something, they were dead. Harry's mouth was completely covered by the vine, and he couldn't speak, but he wouldn't give in so easily. A flick of his wand as he focused mentally on the word of the spell. _Incendio!_ His wand lashed out, and pale, flickering gout of fire appeared above him. Distantly, he heard Fluffy yelp and whine, and the dog's shadow receded from above the trap door.

Pale and weak though it was, the fire was enough. The plant quickly released Harry, and he fell through to the floor below. He quickly rushed over to where he thought Ernie was, and flicked his wand again, spitting out another pale fire. He awkwardly caught Ernie with his free arm, not wanting his friend to hit the hard stone head first. He nearly fell himself, but was able to get the purple-faced Ernie safely to the ground. Two more fire spells freed his other friends, leaving the quartet staring up at the plant that had nearly eaten them all.

"Between you and me, the plant was worse than the monster," Ernie said as he regained his breath. Megan nodded her agreement. Justin, on the other hand, was walking a slow circle around the room, shaking his head.

"Why aren't we dead?" he asked, causing Megan to flinch.

"Don't say things like that," she said, but it was a quiet, frightened whisper.

"I mean it," Justin said. "Look, Dumbledore's a great wizard, yeah? Most powerful since Merlin and all that?" He glanced at Ernie, who was nodding while looking rather unsure of where Justin was going with this. "So why are we still alive? We're first years, yeah? We've already gotten past two of the traps. How many more are there? Shouldn't there be, like, wards and deadly spells and stuff? I mean, when you think about what this is supposed to be guarding..."

Ernie nodded, slowly. "Yes. Yes, I see what you mean. An artifact of this magnitude should certainly warrant better protections than what first years could overcome. Even brilliant first years like us." Megan snorted, but Ernie paid her no mind. "But I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons. Perhaps the Hogwarts wards limited the protections he could use? Ancient magic can be very unpredictable sometimes."

But this simply raised more questions in Harry's mind. Why _were _they being so successful already? Why weren't there traps designed to stop dark wizards, rather than just challenging enough to be dangerous to first years? Was this another situation like the Forbidden Forest? Whatever the case, Harry knew that when this was over, he was going to have more questions for the Headmaster.

"So, what, are we just going to turn back? Run away like a Slytherin faced with a fair fight?" Megan asked, interrupting Harry's musings. Her hand were planted on her hips, and she made sure to catch all three boys with a challenging glare. "We came down here for a reason. I don't think that reason's changed, has it?"

Harry sighed, and shook his head. While this was looking more and more like a setup to him, if the goal was drawing out Voldemort once more, he'd willingly play along- this time.

"She's right. Whatever else is going on, we can't let Quirrell get the stone. We have to go on," he said. His wand was out once more, and he gave it an angry flick towards the door, which flew open as though struck by a troll. He strode through, followed closely by his friends.

The tinkling of what sounded like a hundred tiny bells above him caught Harry's attention as they entered the brightly lit room. The room was tall, taller in fact than the rooms with Fluffy and the devil's snare combined. It was capped with a tall dome, and it was within this dome that the bell noises were coming from. What had to be over a hundred winged keys were flapping idly about, lazily circling the top part of the room.

"Birds," Megan said, her voices breathless with wonder. "Beautiful, shimmering birds."

"They're keys. Winged keys. I bet that's what that broom is for," Harry said, pointing at the broom near the door at the other side of the room.

Megan squinted as she tried to get a better look at her 'birds.' "Are you sure, Harry? They sure look like birds to me." Harry shook his head.

The room was very narrow, and a few long strides brought him to the other door. A massive lock adorned the doorknob. Harry confidently tried the unlocking spell, but was disappointed when it fizzled against the lock. The door remained obstinately locked.

"Harry, mate, how are you doing that?" Justin asked. Megan and Ernie were also staring at him.

"Doing what?" Harry asked, his attention only half on his friends as he turned his gaze towards the winged keys. The answer was rather obvious, but Harry knew that maneuvering in such small quarters would be dangerous.

"Unlocking things. Casting fire about. You haven't said a single spell aloud since we started, except the levitation spell," Justin said as Megan rolled her eyes.

Harry frowned. He really hadn't thought about it at the time, but he realized his friends were correct. "I... I really don't know. I just am," he said, feeling a bit silly for giving such a lame excuse. But the truth was, he had no idea how he was doing it.

"He _is _the Boy-Who-Lived," Ernie said. It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "No, Harry, hear me out. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came after you for a reason, right? Maybe he realized that you were going to become a powerful wizard, and wanted to get you before you became a threat to him. He would have to know that you wouldn't help him when you grew up- the Potters have always stood against the dark, and, well, your mother was a muggleborn, so..."

Harry shrugged. It was as good an explanation as any, and they didn't really have the time to figure it out now regardless.

"I'm going to fly up there and try to find the right key. I'm guessing it's got to be one of the ones up there. I need the rest of you to keep an eye out, and be ready to help if something else happens." Without waiting for a response, Harry mounted the broom and flew almost straight up, directly into the mass of keys. They scattered, but it only took Harry a moment to catch sight of the one he was looking for. One of its wings was bent, and it looked rather worse for wear as it flapped feebly away from him.

But while Harry might not be on the quidditch team yet, he still had spent quite a bit of time practicing and wasn't the reserve seeker for nothing. The key was nowhere near as challenging to catch as a golden snitch, and within moments he had the key firmly within his grasp.

He flew down quickly, careful to avoid crashing into the walls, but still wanting to enjoy the dive a bit. It had been too long since he'd been flying, and while flying inside of a building wasn't the same as flying in the open skies, he'd take what he could get. Fortunately, it seemed as though finding the key was the only 'obstacle,' pathetic as it was, and soon Harry and his friends were safely through the door and into the next room.

"A chessboard," Megan said flatly. As Harry entered, he saw that Megan was dead on. The room was nothing more than a larger-than-life chessboard, complete with massive stone chess men.

"A bloody board game?" Justin said, looking rather incredulous. "You've got to be kidding me."

Harry shook his head and strode across the board. As he neared the other side, though, the king leveled his sword at Harry. Stone or no, the sword was obviously honed to a keen edge.

"We have to play, don't we?" Megan asked, looking disgusted. Justin nodded.

"Looks like it," he said, glancing around the board as though looking for a place where he was less likely to be skewered.

"No way. Not a chance," Harry said angrily. "I'm tired of playing games."

"Do you have another way across?" Ernie asked, looking hopeful.

"Maybe he can use his Boy-Who-Lived powers to blow up the pieces!" Megan said, rolling her eyes, though Harry detected a hint of a question in her voice too.

"Not any Boy-Who-Lived powers, no," Harry said, before Ernie and Megan could start bickering. "But it's time to see just how good this invisibility cloak is, don't you think?"

HP – HP – HP

The quartet walked as quietly as they could across the chessboard, covered fully by Harry's invisibility cloak. He was somewhat grateful that this particular adventure happened this year instead of next, as he doubted the cloak would cover all four of them with another year's growth added in. As it was, they had to move carefully, lest an errant foot or hand slip free and become visible.

Much as they had at the start of their 'adventure,' the Hufflepuff first years stayed as quiet as they could. The near-certain knowledge that the 'deadly traps' seemed in fact to be more of tests had steeled their resolve, though, and there was a confidence in their walk that hadn't been there earlier in the night.

Harry's breath caught as they reached the opposing king, but the stone chess man didn't so much as twitch as Harry and his friends slipped by it. Another silent unlocking spell at the far door, and the four of them were in one of the most foul-smelling places Harry had even been in. In fact, it smelled oddly familiar.

Harry didn't see the danger until it was almost too late. On some level, he must have heard the whistling of the massive club through the air, because as the hairs on his neck tingled, Harry dropped awkwardly to the ground, shouting a warning to his friends as the club impacted the door they'd just come through.

If anything, this troll was even larger than the other one Harry had seen. The top of its head nearly scraped the ceiling of the low, dungeon-like room, and its club was half again as large as the one wielded by the Halloween troll. This troll was, thankfully, only equally as smelly as the first one, though.

Justin and Ernie both had enough time to duck out of the way. Megan was not so fortunate. The troll's club thudded solidly into her side, sending her careening into the far wall without a single sound uttered. She impacted the wall with a dull thud and slid bonelessly to the ground, unmoving.

"Megan!" Harry and Ernie cried out in unison, as Justin dodged a second swing of the troll's club.

As Justin distracted the troll, Ernie rushed forward to Megan. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he saw Ernie's look of relief. He turned towards the troll, which was staring at Justin in puzzlement, obviously wondering why he hadn't been flattened yet.

Harry's blood was boiling. Megan was a good friend- one of his very first, in fact- and this troll had nearly killed her. It was trying to kill Justin, and Ernie, and himself. He could feel his heartbeat pounding, throbbing all the way up to his ears. He didn't know many true attack spells, but right now, he didn't care. He just wanted to hurt the troll, as it had hurt his friend.

Harry wasn't sure what spell he cast, or even if he'd cast a spell at all. One moment he was stalking towards the troll- who had just managed to clip Justin with its club and was reaching back for the killing blow- and the next, his wand was up, tip smoking, and the troll was sliding down the wall opposite Megan. Like Megan, it didn't even stir as it slumped to the floor.

Harry and Justin both rushed towards Megan and Ernie. "Is she..." Harry blurted out as they reached the pair on the floor.

Ernie shook his head. "She's... she's alive. But we have to get her to the Hospital Wing right away. I don't know the first thing about healing."

Harry nodded. "Justin, you take Megan. Ernie and I will go on." Justin looked ready to protest, but his grimace of pain was obvious to Harry. "You're hurt. Even if this is the last obstacle, there's still Quirrell ahead."

Ernie started. "Ahead? I thought we were trying to beat him here?"

"It was the key. Its wings were all bent up. Someone was here before us, and I'm betting it was Quirrell." Ernie and Justin paled.

"Then you'll need me, Harry. You'll need all the help you can get," Justin said, trying to stand up all the way, but unable to hide his wince.

"Then what about Megan?" Harry asked, and Justin's eyes dropped. "Take my invisibility cloak, in case the chess men take issue with you coming back.

Justin, looking defeated, finally gave in and nodded. "Alright, Harry, if you're sure."

"You did really well, Justin. But we have to look after Megan too."

Justin took a deep breath, wincing as he did, and nodded again. He once more met Harry's eyes. "Be careful, alright? I don't think it's fun and games anymore."

As Justin carefully lifted Megan up, Harry said, softly, "Me either."

Harry waited a moment to make sure Justin had made it safely past the chess board before turning towards the next door. He took a deep breath and strode forward, deftly unlocking it and peering inside.

It was a tiny, almost cozy room, but where the room with the troll was stifling, the room ahead was merely compact. There was a long table with several, differently sized vials atop it. Near the vials was a small note. Upon seeing that there was no obvious danger, Harry and Ernie entered the room.

Unlike previous rooms, the door did not slam shut behind them. Instead, a fire sprang forth both ahead and behind them, trapping them in the room. Harry and Ernie quickly brought their wands to bear, glancing cautiously around the room.

After a tense moment of waiting, no other threat seemed forthcoming. Ernie slowly lowered his wand, and Harry reluctantly did the same. Compared to the last few rooms, this one seemed almost safe.

Harry and Ernie went to the table, and Ernie picked up the note. Harry leaned to the side, so he could read the note as well.

_"__Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine, _

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. _

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore, _

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: _

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide _

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; _

_Second, different are those who stand at either end, _

_But if you would move onwards neither is your friend; _

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, _

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; _

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right _

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight." _

(Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone)

Ernie let out a sigh of relief. "Well, that's not too bad, is it, Harry? Just a bit of a logic puzzle then. Sit tight, I'll have this one solved in just a moment!" Ernie stared at the bottles for several minutes, counting under his breath and muttering.

Harry, in the meantime, was studying the room, and the fires. They didn't seem to be emitting any heat, but Harry was not foolish enough to try to touch one and test it. The black flames ahead seemed somehow more ominous than the purple flames behind, but both danced about wildly even while they stayed confined to their respective doorways.

"I've got it! At least, I'm reasonably sure I've got it," Ernie said. Harry walked back over to his friend. "This one, on the far right. That one will take you back. And, I'm pretty sure it's this one, here," he said, pointing at the fourth one from the left, "that will bring you forward. Though, it could be the third one. But I'm almost certain it's this one."

"Er, if you're wrong, wouldn't it be bad?" Harry asked as he frowned at the vials. He realized, belatedly, that he was wrong. This room was not safe at all. It was just as dangerous as the others. It was simply more insidious.

"I have a bezoar in my pocket, Harry. Really, all proper potions masters- and aspiring potions masters- should have one on them," Ernie said reproachfully, and Harry could vaguely recall being questioned about bezoars, along with the Drought of Living Death and in Snape's first potions class. "Especially you, given how much Snape likes you. He'll probably get around to poisoning you one of these days." Harry laughed, as did Ernie, but it sounded hollow.

Harry reached for the 'go forward' potion, but Ernie stopped him and lifted the tiny vial himself. "I'll test it, Harry. If I'm wrong- and I'm almost certainly not wrong- you'll need to use the other one to face Quirrell. I'm, well... I'm not as important as you, am I?" Ernie asked, with a heavy sigh.

"Stop it. You're just as important as I, Boy-Who-Lived or not."

"It's alright, Harry. I'm a Hufflepuff. I suppose I should be used to being the backup, yeah?"

"I'm a Hufflepuff too, Ernie. Let the other houses think what they will, but as far as I'm concerned, all of you are heroes."

"Thanks, Harry. That means quite a bit. But I'm still doing it." Before Harry could react, Ernie lifted the vial to his lips and took a tiny sip. "There, see, nothing to it," he said with a smile. Then he collapsed to the ground.

"Ernie!" Harry called, dropping to the ground beside his friend. Ernie's lips were already blue, and he didn't appear to be breathing. Harry hurriedly rifled through Ernie's pockets, and quickly came up with a small, dull looking rock. He instantly recognized the bezoar, and shoved it into Ernie's mouth. Immediately, Ernie's cheeks starting gaining some color back, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

However, Ernie did not awaken. He did seem to be breathing normally, though, and was no longer pale and colorless. Harry turned back towards the vials, and lifted the other vial that Ernie had indicated. "I hope your second guess was right," he muttered before drinking the potion.

He felt as though a cool breeze had gently touched him, and his skin immediately was covered in goosebumps. He leaned back down to Ernie, who was now snoring loudly. Despite being to all appearances asleep, he would not rouse no matter how hard Harry shook him. Harry stood back up and approached the black fire.

Cautiously, Harry extended his hand out towards the black flame, touching it as briefly as he could with a single finger. Nothing happened. "Looks like you were sort of right, Ernie," Harry said, and with a steadying breath, strode through the flames with his wand at the ready.

HP – HP – HP

"Hello, Harry Potter," Quirrell said as soon as Harry emerged from the flames, which dissipated shortly after he stepped through. Quirrell's wand, like Harry's, was drawn, and his stutter was noticeable in its absence, but it was not Quirrell's wand that Harry was staring at. Neither was it the magic mirror that Hannah and Harry had found what seemed an age ago, though he was surprised to see it there. What caught Harry's attention was Susan, who was standing next to Quirrell, her face vacant, devoid of all expression.

"Susan!" Harry shouted as he started to rush towards her.

"Ah! I wouldn't do that, Potter," Quirrell said, idly gesturing his wand towards Susan. Harry froze in his tracks.

"Let her go, Quirrell! This is between you and me," Harry said, barely keeping his voice from turning to a growl.

"Now why should I do that? You and your little friends have been quite the little nuisances. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you to break into my office, and I truly did not anticipate you going running to Sprout like a good little Hufflepuff."

"What's Susan got to do with it? Let her go!"

"You've forced my hand, Potter. It will only be a matter of time before Dumbledore detects my imperious curse on your head of house. It was my great fortune that Dumbledore decided to search for my master in the forest tonight. But you... this is price you pay for interfering in my plans. Kill him!"

Susan didn't hesitate. She leveled her wand at Harry and attempted a full-body bind. Harry's shock at Susan suddenly attacking him nearly ended the fight before it began. At the last moment, he dodged to the side. Susan's curse passed through the black flames harmlessly.

"This is your punishment, Potter. You kill your little girlfriend, or she kills you. You should not have interfered with the Dark Lord!"

Susan's spells were relentless, and it was all Harry could do to dodge. Despite the fact that Susan, like Harry, knew no lethal spells, she seemed determined to catch him with whatever she could, and Harry was hesitant to cast anything back at her, as he was unsure of what Quirrell had done or what effect his own magic might have.

Another volley of spells sent Harry sprawling. Susan's tripping jinx had been well cast- Harry and his friends had all spent time mastering the spell- and he simply couldn't get out of the way in time. He found himself staring at the mirror as Susan closed in behind him, and couldn't help but think that things had not turned out as he'd thought. He'd hoped he could rescue the stone from Quirrell, and keep his friends safe. He'd done neither.

His reflection, on the other hand, seemed to be in much better shape. It was standing tall, Susan nearby, and was putting a reddish stone into his sock, where it would be hidden by his pant leg. In that instant, Harry felt a cool, smooth stone touching his calf.

Behind him, he heard Susan cast another full-body bind, and as fast as he could, Harry turned over. "_Protego!_" Once more, his shield charm worked, and a translucent silver barrier formed between him and Susan. Susan's hex ricocheted off the shield and impacted the mirror, shattering it.

"No! You foolish, foolish boy! The stone!" As Harry scrambled to his feet, he saw Susan shaking her head, looking thoroughly confused.

"Harry?" she said, her voice trembling.

Quirrell was not idle. He pointed his wand at Susan's back. "_Avada Kedavra!_" he said with a snarl. Harry had no idea what the curse would do if it hit Susan, but wasn't willing to take the chance. He dove forward, driving Susan painfully to the ground, as the sickly green curse- a color he remembered far too well- sailed over his head.

Harry and Susan quickly got to their feet, and Harry shoved her towards the doorway as he felt his wand blasted from his grip.

"Harry Potter," said a second voice. It was high and thin, and tickled at the edge of his memory. Almost against his will, Harry turned once more to face Quirrell, who looked almost as afraid as Harry felt.

"Master, you cannot-" Quirrell said, but was interrupted.

"Do not presume to direct me. Young Harry has fought bravely, and deserves to see the face of his doom."

Harry and Susan stood transfixed as Quirrell slowly, painstakingly unwound his turban. Beneath the turban, Quirrell was bald, but neither Harry nor Susan could miss what appeared to be a second face sticking out of the back of their professor's head.

"See what I have become, Harry?" it asked, as Quirrell turned so that it could face him. Harry's scar immediately came alive with pain as he met the thing's gaze. "I have become less than spirit, cursed to share the bodies of others. Unicorn blood has sustained me, certainly, but the Stone will allow me to live once more."

Harry immediately wished that the stone had been destroyed with the mirror, rather than somehow finding its way to his sock.

"So you have it, then, Harry. If you give it to me, I will allow you and your friend to leave. You will live another day. Never let it be said that Lord Voldemort is not merciful."

For a brief moment, Harry considered it. He was more terrified of the thought of his friends dying than he was of his own end. He felt Susan's hand find his and give a tight squeeze, before letting it go.

"I... I would rather die than let Harry give in to you!" Susan shouted.

Voldemort laughed. The sound grated on Harry's ears, and sounded wholly unnatural. "Foolish girl. So quick to embrace death. So be it!"

Quirrell spun around, a curse already on his lips, and Harry did the only thing he could think of. He dove, trying to tackle Quirrell to the ground before he could finish his curse.

Despite the fact that Quirrell was a grown man, and Harry a rather small 11-year-old boy, when Harry grabbed hold of Quirrell, the possessed professor cried out. Three voices screamed in unison, and Harry felt his scar split open. He could vaguely hear Susan calling out his name as he held firm to Quirrell. He felt her pulling at him, trying to get him free, but he refused to let go.

Finally, after long, agonizing moments, Quirrell fell backwards. The burning in Harry's scar increased dramatically for a moment as he felt something pass near him, and then all but vanished.

Quirrell was a smoking ruin. It looked as though the man had caught fire. However, Harry noticed that the second face was nowhere to be seen. He was sure, however, that Quirrell had to be dead.

"Harry... Potter," he gasped through cracked, broken lips. Susan made a sound of alarm, and Harry spun to face the man again, raising his wand. "I am... saved."

Harry blinked in shock, but did not lower his wand. "I was weak... I could not face the pain. I... joined him, rather than suffer. But I am free. Thank you, Harry Potter."

Finally, Harry lowered his wand. This was no longer his enemy. He was just another victim of Voldemort.

"Come away, Harry. You should not bear witness to death at such a young age."

Harry turned once more to face the Headmaster. The old man seemed rather out of breath, and was accompanied by Professor Sprout. He reached out to Harry, who numbly stepped forward and allowed himself to be led away by Sprout. As he, Susan, and Sprout left, he could hear Quirrell one last time. "Tell him..."


	14. A Terrible and Wondrous Thing

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

As Harry, Susan, and Professor Sprout entered the room that contained the potions puzzle, he looked over to where Ernie had fallen, but did not see his friend. "Minerva brought him to the Hospital Wing," Sprout said in a quavering voice in response to his unasked question. "Albus wanted me to go, but... but I couldn't go until I knew that you two were safe." She took a deep, shuddering breath as she ushered them out past the chess men, who were now all standing off to the sides of the room.

When they reached the room with the flying keys, Sprout opened her mouth to speak once more, but closed it without saying anything. It was in that moment that Harry was struck by the changes that had been wrought in his head of house in just the few hours since he'd last seen her. Fear and worry had etched lines into her face that had not been there before, and a concerned frown had replaced her welcoming smile.

"Professor," Harry said, hesitantly, as he struggled to find the right words. "Thank you, for coming down here for us." She stopped rigidly beneath the devil's snare- her own contribution to the Stone's defenses- looking for all the world as though she'd been hit with a petrification hex, as Harry spoke.

She turned, slowly, to face Harry and Susan, and took another deep breath. Harry was relieved to see that she had a somewhat less strained expression. "Thank you, Mr. Potter... Harry. But I can't help but feel as though I've let you and Miss Bones- and the rest of your cohort- down."

Harry shook his head and was about to respond, but Susan beat him to it. "He got me, too, Professor. I couldn't fight it. He... he tried to make me kill Harry! I-" Susan's words cut off as she let out a sob, and Sprout immediately swept her up into a hug.

"There, there, Susan, it's not your fault," she said as she held the crying girl, who had buried her face into Sprout's robes as she wept. "That curse is a terrible thing. Even fully qualified witches can't fight it." In a quieter voice, she added, "Even I couldn't. No one holds you to blame." Sprout's eyes stared into the distance for a moment before they sought out Harry, who shook his head to reassure her.

"I don't blame you Susan. I didn't think it was really you trying to get me. Not like you were the time I spilled ink on your potions essay!"

"Prat," she said, but Harry could hear the faint amusement in his friend's voice.

Harry sought out Sprout's gaze, as now that Susan was feeling a bit better, she was no longer meeting his eyes. "I don't blame you, either, Professor. You tried to help. You believed us. It's more than I'm used to from adults, to be honest. It's not your fault that Quirrell... that _Voldemort _cursed you. You did your best."

The words sounded weak to Harry's ears, but the sentiment behind them was enough, it seemed. Sprout's eyes were suspiciously watery as she pulled him into a brief hug as well, and Harry could see the worry and fear ease off her shoulders. Her voice, too, regained some of its usual warmth and confidence.

"Now, then, what do you say we go up and see the rest of your friends, hmm?"

HP – HP – HP

Harry knew it was too good to be true to hope that he'd be spared a visit to one of Madam Pomfrey's beds, but the lingering weakness and faint head pain ensured that he, too, would be staying overnight at the very least. Fortunately, this time he would have good company.

"'Lo Harry," came Justin's voice as Pomfrey shooed Harry towards one of the few open beds. He could see Hannah at the bed closest to the window chatting quietly with Megan, who had a dazed-looking smile that told him Pomfrey had dosed her rather heavily with potions. McGonagall was there, too, to Harry's surprise, speaking with a rather chagrined Ernie, who was taking the lecture with good grace. At Justin's greeting, though, all of the Hufflepuffs- and McGonagall- looked up as one.

"Harry!" Hannah shouted, and ran towards him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare worry us like that again!"

Harry gently extricated himself from the excited blonde's grasp, and she dashed over to Susan to give her a hug as well. Harry found himself wearing a relieved smile now that he saw that all of his friends were safe and on the mend. Sprout, too, seemed rather relieved to see everyone okay, and quietly excused herself so Harry and his friends could have their moment. He allowed himself to be led over to the bed next to Megan's and sat down. On cue, it seemed, his friends quieted, looking to him expectantly.

"Hi Harry!" Megan said in an overly-happy tone of voice that brought amused smiles to the other Hufflepuffs and broke the silence. "I saw a troll."

Harry's smile fell immediately, and everyone else's looks sobered as well.

"Yes, Miss Jones, you did. Now why don't you go ahead and lay down and rest a bit," Madam Pomfrey said gently as she moved to the other side of Harry's bed and pulled the covers up to Megan's chin.

"'Kay," came the sleepy, almost slurred response, and within moments Megan was asleep. The awkward silence was soon filled with soft, incoherent mumblings that would have had Harry smiling had the circumstances been different.

"Skele-Grow," said Pomfrey as Megan drifted off. "It doesn't mix very well with other potions, but given the extent of her injuries..."

"She'll be okay?" Harry asked, worry once more creeping in and wrapping itself tightly around his chest.

The mediwitch nodded, and Harry felt the tightness loosen. "She'll be here for several days, but she should be right as rain by next weekend."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, and glanced around at his other friends- particularly Ernie and Justin, who like himself and Megan, were confined to beds.

"'M fine too, Harry. Madam Pomfrey just waved her wand a few times and I was all set. Still won't let me leave, though," Justin said, with a sullen glance towards Pomfrey, who didn't deign to notice.

"It was just a Drought of Living Death, Harry. I'd have woken right up from the bezoar if it wasn't Snape's special brew. I suppose the old bat has a few useful tricks after all, eh?" Ernie said with a smile.

"Mr. Macmillan!" McGonagall said, pressing her lips together in disapproval, though Harry thought that he saw, if he looked very closely, the tiniest hint of humor in her eyes. "I will pardon your disrespect on account of the fact that you are recovering from the effects of a rather potent potion, but such a thing had best not pass your lips in my hearing again. Am I perfectly clear?"

"But Professor, Madam Pomfrey gave me the antidote. I'm perfectly-" he cut off at the flat look from McGonagall. "Er, right, it was a bit strong, wasn't it. In fact, I still feel a bit sleepy. I think I might just go for a bit of a nap myself, right Professor?"

"Quite, Mr. Macmillan," she said, and this time Harry was sure he saw the amusement in her eyes as Ernie rolled to his side and feigned sleep. Harry couldn't hide his grin as Ernie winked at him.

McGonagall turned to face him. "Mr. Potter, if I might have a word before you become too involved with catching up with your friends?"

Harry nodded. "Sure, Professor."

McGonagall walked over to his bed, drawing her wand and deftly waving it in the air around them. Megan's mutterings disappeared, as did the sound of Pomfrey ushering an unresisting Susan into a bed on the other side of Justin.

She sighed and frowned at him. "Mr. Potter, what on Earth possessed you to go after Professor Quirrell? You and your friends could have been killed!"

"What other choice did I have?" Harry countered, feeling a bit put upon that she'd confront him like this.

"Choice? Perhaps you ought to have informed a professor, Mr. Potter," she said, her lips thinning even further in displeasure.

"I told Professor Sprout. She came back awhile later and told me everything was fine, even though I knew it wasn't. Of course, I didn't realize she'd been cursed at the time..."

"Yes, the Headmaster had mentioned... but Mr. Potter, you could have come to me, or even gone directly to Professor Dumbledore."

"The only reason I went to Professor Sprout at all was because I'd promised my friends I would. I didn't really thing she'd believe me. I was really surprised when she did."

McGonagall seemed taken aback by that. "Why ever would you think that? All your professors take our students' safety very seriously."

"Except Quirrell," Harry muttered, and McGonagall's frown returned.

"That still does not explain why you didn't bring this to myself or the Headmaster."

Harry sighed as his frustration mounted. "Why? Professor, I don't really expect adults do much. They never do." Harry considered telling her about Dumbledore sending himself and Hannah into the Forbidden Forest, but he decided not to. That was something he still wanted to properly confront the Headmaster about.

"Mr. Potter... Harry... why would you feel that way?" Her voice was much warmer, much more concerned than it had been.

"Professor, you saw the Dursleys. Could you see me relying on them for anything? Everyone else in Little Whinging thinks I'm some sort of delinquent, thanks to my Aunt and Uncle."

McGonagall sighed, knowing Harry spoke truly about the adults back home. "But surely you know you can rely on the adults here at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter." Her statement was almost a question, as though she feared to know the answer.

"Professor, can you really see me going to beg Snape for help?"

"_Professor _Snape."

"See, that's what I mean!" Harry said in nearly a shout as his frustration boiled. "Considering that the one time I tried to bring how _Snape _acts to an adult, nothing at all happened, except that _Snape _got even nastier than before. Everyone here just leaps to his defense!"

"Mr. Potter, whatever your personal feelings on the man, he is a Hogwarts professor and deserves your respect."

Harry just sighed yet again. This was obviously not a battle he would win any time soon. "And that's why I didn't want to go running to an adult. The only other choices were to do nothing and let Quirrell- let _Voldemort_- have the Stone, or to do my best to stop them. Somehow, we managed to win."

"You should consider yourself very, very lucky for that, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her voice firm once more now that they were on safer ground.

"I know. But I couldn't stand by and do nothing, and I couldn't rely on anyone else to do it, either."

McGonagall looked at him quietly for a moment. "You would have made a fine Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked around the unnaturally silenced hospital wing. Justin was trying to play exploding snap by himself- and losing, by the looks of it- while Ernie kept sneaking peeks at McGonagall and pretending to be asleep. Megan was still fast asleep, while Susan and Hannah were both sitting up in Susan's bed, chatting animatedly and giggling. "Thank you, Professor," Harry said, smiling as he took in the antics of his friends, "but Hufflepuff is my home."

HP – HP – HP

Harry was unsurprised when Dumbledore slipped quietly into the Hospital Wing after the rest of the Hufflepuffs had finally gone to sleep. He and Susan had both been reluctant to go into too much detail about what happened with Quirrell, but they'd finally managed to satisfy everyone's curiousity without getting too deep into uncomfortable topics.

But Harry knew that the Headmaster would want to speak with him personally about his confrontation with Quirrell, and stayed up knowing that it wouldn't be long before Dumbledore sought him out.

"I am most pleased to find you awake, Harry," the wizened man said quietly as he gestured almost lazily with his distinctive wand. Ernie's snores and Megan's mutterings immediately vanished, much as had happened before with McGonagall. "Madam Pomfrey has been most distressed about the condition of most of Hufflepuff's first year, but I'm pleased that all of you will make a full recovery."

Harry nodded. He, too, was pleased that he and his friends would come out of the previous nights events none the worse for wear. Physically, at least.

"I was hoping that I might speak with you about what happened with Professor Quirrell last night, Harry."

Harry nodded again, having suspected as much. "He had Susan under some kind of curse. He tried to make her kill me."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression grave. "It is called the Imperious Curse, Harry. It is a vile thing, taking control of someone's will in such a manner."

"Well, she was trying to kill me, but, well, I think he did it just because he knew making me fight Susan would upset me. But I wasn't fighting, I was just trying to get her to wake up. She managed to knock me down, but I got a shield charm up before she could curse me again. Her spell bounced off my shield and hit the mirror. That's when Quirrell got really mad- started shouting about the Stone. I guess the mirror had something to do with it?"

"Yes, Harry, the Stone is gone. I had placed it in the mirror, as no one who wanted to use the stone would be able to find it that way. It is for the best, I think. I can only hope I can convince Nicholas to see it that way too," Dumbledore said as his gaze turned away from Harry for a moment, while Harry did his very best not to show any reaction of his own. It would not do for the Headmaster to realize that Harry had in fact succeeded in rescuing the Stone- at least, not until Harry decided what exactly he was going to do with it.

"Well, that's when he and Voldemort started arguing. He took off his turban so that Voldemort could speak with us directly. He offered to spare us if we'd give in to him, but Susan shouted at him that she'd rather die than give in." Harry smiled. "She was really brave."

Dumbledore smiled, too. "Yes, Harry, that was very brave of her. Many wizards and witches were not nearly so brave when faced with Lord Voldemort."

Harry shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. He tried to curse us again, so I tackled him. It felt like I was burning, but then Quirrell started screaming, and then, well, that's about when you and Professor Sprout got there."

"I see. Harry, you were very, very brave last night, braver than anyone could ever have asked of you-"

Harry interrupted him. "My friends were, too. They were all scared, but not a single one of them was willing to let me go alone. They were the really brave ones."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Indeed, Harry. Now, I'm certain you have some things you wish to ask me before we say farewell for the evening?"

Harry nodded, but his first words came out before he could stop himself. "You'll tell me the truth?"

Fortunately, Dumbledore did not seem offended. "The truth, Harry, is both a terrible and wondrous thing, and thus should be handled with great caution. I shall not, of course, lie."

He figured that was about as good as he would get. "How was I able to stop Quirrell? I don't understand why he started burning up like that when I touched him."

"Harry, there are some things in this world far greater than any sort of magic we learn here at Hogwarts. Love is, perhaps, the greatest force of all." Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's incredulous look, then grew somber. "Harry, when your mother gave her life for yours, she gave you a very powerful protection, more powerful than any mere spell. I believe that Voldemort cannot bear the touch of one who has been so protected."

Harry nodded, not really understanding but also knowing that he had no knowledge that might help him to understand, or refute, the headmaster's claim. Dumbledore seemed to catch that Harry didn't really get it, though.

"There are many kinds of love, Harry, and while you may not understand today, it is my sincerest hope that you will some day. Love for your friends, for instance, is something that I believe you possess a great deal of, even if you have never thought of it in those terms. That is a powerful thing, Harry."

Harry was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Why me, Professor? Why did Voldemort come after me, and why does he keep trying?"

"Alas, Harry, that is one question that I do not feel that I can in good conscience answer at this time."

Harry frowned. "Why not, Professor? It seems like that's something sort of important for me to know."

"Indeed, Harry, it is of great importance. You are most certainly correct about that. But the answer is rather complicated, and I do not feel that you are yet old enough to face it."

"Sir, respectfully, I was old enough to send into the Forbidden Forest to draw out Voldemort..."

Dumbledore's expression grew pained. "Yes, Harry. You are correct. I should not have done that, to you or to Miss Abbott. I am afraid that my desire to stop Voldemort from gaining further access to the school rather clouded my judgement."

"Further access? You knew?" Harry was incredulous. All that, and Dumbledore knew that Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort?

But Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry. I suspected that Professor Quirrell was up to something, and thought that perhaps that something had to do with Voldemort, but I did not know until Miss Abbott found Hagrid and myself and told me that you were going to attempt to stop him from gaining the Stone."

"What Quirrell said as we were walking away... he said 'tell him.' What did he mean."

Dumbledore hesitated. "Harry, Professor Quirrell was in great pain. He was dying. The strain of being possessed by Voldemort, on top of the protections you carry, were too much for him."

Harry persisted. "You didn't answer the question, sir."

Dumbledore gave Harry a searching look, staring at him for what seemed an eternity, before letting out a heavy sigh and nodding. "Very well, Harry. I suppose that you have more than earned the right to this information. I had hoped not to burden you with this for some time. There was a prophecy made regarding you and Voldemort. I will not tell you the exact wording, nor will I share more than Voldemort already knows."

Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall Harry's protest. "Harry, I must impress upon you the very real danger that knowing even as much as I will share tonight brings you. If anyone were to learn that you knew the full truth, the consequences could be most dire. Even with what I will share with you tonight, Harry, I must have your most solemn promise that you will tell this to no one, not even your friends."

Harry didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from his friends- from friends who had just hours ago risked their lives to help Harry stop Voldemort, but at the same time the information that Dumbledore had seemed too important to ignore.

"I won't tell anyone, sir, but I would like to be allowed to at some point in the future. I don't like keeping secrets from my friends."

Dumbledore nodded, but there was still no smile on the Headmaster's face. "That is acceptable Harry, though I warn you that such permission will not come for several years, if at all. As I said, there was a prophecy made regarding you and Voldemort. Simply put, the first part of that prophecy stated that one would be born who had the power to vanquish the dark lord. The prophecy specifies that this person would be born at the end of July, to those who had defied Voldemort three times."

"My parents..."

"Were very much enemies of Voldemort and had faced him directly on three different occasions, surviving each time. There were very few people who can claim to have survived Voldemort even once." Dumbledore's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, so Harry was unashamed of his own threatening to fall. "Your parents were truly wonderful and extraordinary people."

"That's why he keeps coming after me, isn't it? He thinks I'm a danger to him."

"Harry, you are very much a danger to him, as you proved last night, and as you proved in the forest. I must confess that, when you were sorted to Hufflepuff, I feared that you would not have the strength to face Voldemort."

"Hufflepuff is a great house, Professor. Just because I'm not a Gryffindor doesn't mean I can't be brave, any more than not being a Ravenclaw makes me dumb."

"Indeed, you are quite right, Harry, and I certainly meant no offense towards Hufflepuff. It is a fine house, and many great wizards and witches have come from Helga's house. But you must admit that facing Voldemort takes exceptional bravery, and right or wrong, bravery is expected of a Gryffindor more than it is of a Hufflepuff. I am most pleased to have been mistaken, Harry, and I must admit, you are handling this information much better than I had thought."

"Sir, Voldemort was already interested in me. Now I just know why."

Dumbledore couldn't refute that logic. "Very astute, Harry, and wise beyond your years."

"I had one more question, sir."

"By all means, Harry."

"Why do I live with Dursleys?"

Whatever Dumbledore was expecting Harry to ask, he certainly was not expecting that. He appeared more surprised than Harry had ever seen him.

Harry pressed on. "My friends who grew up in the wizarding world seemed really surprised that I grew up with muggles. They said that loads of people would have been willing to take me in after... after that Halloween."

Dumbledore sighed. "The Dursleys are your family, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "I'm related to loads of people in the wizarding world, through my dad. I'm even related to Malfoy!" Harry didn't bother to hide his disgust at that thought.

"Yes, Harry, but Petunia was your mother's only family. That was why you went to the Dursleys."

"But why did it have to be my mother's family? Sure, she might only have Aunt Petunia, but my father has loads of relatives, even if they're not that close."

Dumbledore frowned, but after a long moment of consideration let out a deep sigh. "Very well, Harry. As I mentioned, your mother's sacrifice gave you a very powerful protection. That protection exists in part because of your connection to your aunt, who you share your mother's blood with. So long as you can call the Dursleys' home your own, you are protected beyond any wards even the most powerful witches and wizards could provide."

Harry scowled. "That place is _not _my home!"

"I understand all too well that you have not had a happy childhood with Vernon and Petunia, and for that, Harry, I am terribly sorry. But I can make no apologies for keeping you safe. It is that protection that very likely helped save your life tonight. Were you no longer able to call the Dursleys home your own, much of that protection would be lost forever."

Harry just sighed and let his head fall back against his pillow. "There must be some way..."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you must spend at least part of your summers with the Dursleys, in order to maintain the strength of the protections and wards."

Harry perked up at that. "Only part of the summer? Then if I can find a friend to stay with...?"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, and nodded. "Yes, Harry, though it would be best if you stay with the Dursleys at least until your birthday. And I would ask that you send word of your plans to me so that I might know that you are safe."

Harry nodded his agreement. That was certainly reasonable.

"Excellent, Harry. Thank you. Now, I should let you find some rest, lest Madam Pomfrey decide that your tiredness in morning means you ought to spend another day in her care!"

Dumbledore's smile drew a like one from Harry, and the two shared a good laugh before Harry found himself drawn into a restful sleep. He was still unsure if the Headmaster was telling him all of the information he would need, but at least Dumbledore had made a good start. It would be enough, for now.

HP – HP – HP

The next few days were both awkward and wonderful for Harry. He'd gone down to breakfast alongside Ernie and Susan, who were let out at the same time as he was. Justin, much to his displeasure, would be in the Hospital Wing for at least another day, while Megan still had a week or more in Madam Pomfrey's care.

The trio was rather shocked when they saw the great hourglasses that kept track of the house points. Two days before, Slytherin had had a substantial lead over second place Hufflepuff, but today Hufflepuff had a commanding lead over the other houses. It was apparent that the other houses were as surprised by this turn of events as Harry was, as the Great Hall was even louder than usual as various bits of gossip reached Harry's ears.

"I hear that there was another monster in the school, and Harry Potter and his friends fought it!"

"It's got to have something to do with Quirrell, hasn't it? He's been gone two days now!"

"Sprout was probably mad that something happened to her first years, and blamed it on Slytherin."

Harry and his friends just shared knowing glances as they made their way to their table, where Hannah was already waiting.

The following days weren't much better, as the rumors continued to fly. Dumbledore had taken over Defense classes for the rest of term, and it was obvious to the students that whatever had happened to Quirrell had also involved the Hufflepuff first years.

On the other hand, Sprout seemed to make it a personal mission to ensure that Hufflepuff kept their lead. Every point that Snape tried to take from Harry was doubly returned by Sprout, and it wasn't long before the Slytherin head gave up trying to take points unjustly altogether.

The entirety of Hufflepuff house seemed to be respecting Harry and his friends' privacy, thankfully, though there was a small celebration when Justin returned to the dorms a couple days later. Megan, of course, was still bedridden, but the potions had mostly run their course and she was back to her usual self, if a bit grumpy at being stuck in bed. Harry and his friends made sure to visit her daily, and he also loaned her his wireless so she could listen to the Holyhead Harpies quidditch match that weekend. Her return a week and a half later brought another party, and they were able to mostly put their adventure behind them- everyone was back, safe, and well.

Though Harry kept his promise to Dumbledore about not sharing what he knew of the prophecy, he made sure to tell his friends everything else the Headmaster had shared that night, including the fact that he wasn't allowed to share that one bit of information. To his surprise (and pleasure), once his friends knew that he would be able to leave the Dursleys after his birthday, he was inundated with invitations all around. He would not want for company after July 31.

Exams were almost anti-climactic after the Hufflepuffs' adventures, but nonetheless Harry and his friends studied and worked hard to make sure they'd do well. Harry was well pleased with his results- he'd scored very high marks in all of his classes save potions. Even in potions he'd managed to scrape an Acceptable, which for any other professor Harry was quite sure would have been an E or even an O.

HP – HP – HP

It wasn't until the last day of term, shortly before the leaving feast, that Professor Sprout called him to her office.

"Harry," she said by way of greeting, motioning for him to have a seat. Harry noticed that, as had been the case ever since the incident with Quirrell, she seemed distinctly uncomfortable around him.

"Harry," she said again, "thank you for coming so promptly." Harry nodded his acknowledgement. "I... owe you an apology, Harry."

Harry tried to interrupt, but she kept speaking. "I let you down, Harry. It was very kind of you to forgive me for it, but I still did not protect you as I should have."

"It's really not your fault, Professor, he got Susan too. There's nothing you could have done."

She stared at him for a moment, taken aback, before frowning. "No, Harry, not that, though you were quite kind to forgive then, too. No, I'm referring to you and Hannah being sent to the Forbidden Forest."

Harry scowled, and Sprout nodded, seeing that he had caught on. "I want you to know that if you are _ever _given an inappropriate detention again, I want you to come straight to me and I will deal with it. I will not allow you, or any of my students, to be handled in such a manner again."

Harry was taken aback by the sudden fierceness in his head of house, yet felt a strange warmth from it as well. It was strange, this feeling that an adult was willing to protect him.

"I'm sure you- along with the rest of Hogwarts- have been curious about the house points?" Harry nodded, and she continued. "Professor Dumbledore awarded them to you and your friends, for your actions on... that day. He wanted to present them at the leaving feast, but I convinced him that stripping Slytherin of their ill-gotten victory at the last moment, while satisfying, was probably not the best idea."

Harry smiled, picturing the look on Malfoy and Snape's faces when they saw their win taken away at the last minute.

"I've also submitted all of your names for awards, for special services to the school. I'll be completely honest with you, Harry- I'm not sure they'll go through. I don't think the Headmaster wants it known that You-Know-Who was in the school."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. "He's not going to be very happy then. Susan's planning on telling her aunt all about what happened over the summer. The only reason she hasn't already is because she was worried her aunt would convince her mum to pull her out of school." Harry wouldn't have said anything at all, except that Susan had made no secret of the fact that she'd planned to have a long talk about the school year with her aunt, and wasn't worried about anyone finding out. He knew that Megan, Hannah, and Ernie had similar plans, but none of them wanted word getting out until they'd spoken with their families.

Sprout just smiled at him. "Yes, well, I think we'll just keep that to ourselves, then, won't we?"

HP – HP – HP

The leaving feast was perfectly normal, which suited Harry perfectly. Snape was, of course, very unhappy when Dumbledore presented Hufflepuff with the House Cup- breaking Slytherin's several year winning streak in the process- but overall, it was just a nice, quiet, troll-and-monster free meal with his friends.

And in the end, despite all the adventures, despite the knowledge that he would soon be back at the Dursleys, and despite the fact that Voldemort was still out there, trying to regain a body so he could finish what he'd started on that Halloween ten years prior, Harry was content.

_A/N – This is the end of Correspondence Uninterrupted - Year One. There will of course be a sequel, and another, until such time as the story is complete, which on the advice of ladysavay, will continue in the very next chapter. I want to thank everyone who's been reading so far, and especially thank those who have reviewed. If you have not already, I will ask this one time that you take a moment to do so now. This was my first major writing project, and it is only through practice and criticism both that I will improve. For that, I need your help, to tell me what you liked, what you hated; to tell me what my strengths as a writer seem to be and what you think I need to improve on._

_I want to give special thanks to RRW, Luis4200, Slytherin66, JKArcanus, malko050987, and jbfritz, who were with me since very early on in the story and kindly submitted several reviews as they read. It was very nice seeing familiar names popping up again and again as I read through reviews, and your continued support gave me encouragement as I wrote. So, thank you!_

_Second A/N - nonjon pointed out that I had forgotten to put mention of the Philosopher's Stone's fate in this chapter, as in the prior chapter it was in Harry's sock. It was, apparently, in a previous edit but didn't make it into the version of the chapter I published, so I added a bit in here to acknowledge the Stone's current whereabouts. Thanks nonjon!  
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	15. An Unlocking Charm?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

Privet Drive was almost exactly as Harry had left it at the end of last summer. Sure, Aunt Petunia's garden had grown a bit rough around the edges without Harry to do the work to maintain it, and Dudley had grown substantially (both in height and girth), but on the whole, Number Four Privet Drive hadn't really changed at all. It almost felt surreal to Harry as Uncle Vernon pulled his car into the driveway. Harry had been through so much in the past year that returning to the Dursleys' felt almost like an odd sort of dream, the kind one had when they weren't quite awake yet and couldn't really tell the difference between waking and sleeping.

His cousin, who had pressed his bulk as much against the far door as he could manage while still actually being in the car, fled the vehicle before Vernon had even managed to finish parking. Harry's aunt waited for the vehicle to stop, at least, before she too vanished into the house. As Harry hauled his school trunk out of the boot, he became aware of the shadow of his uncle looming over him menacingly.

But Harry had dealt with his fair share of bullies at Hogwarts, and more importantly, had fought Voldemort and come out alive. His uncle was not nearly as frightening as he'd been even a year ago.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked. He kept his tone to one of polite interest. There was no need to make waves unnecessarily, especially given that he could not perform magic over the holidays- though he certainly felt no desire to share that fact with his relatives.

"Boy," Vernon said, though Harry could hear a bit of uncertainty in his uncle's voice. Vernon was unused to Harry being unafraid of him, Harry supposed. Surely he couldn't think that things would go back to the way they were before Harry had learned of his heritage?

"Boy," Vernon said again, "there had best not be any _unnaturalness_ in our house this summer. Your aunt and I provide for you out of the goodness of our hearts, and we will not abide any of your freakish ways."

Part of Harry was surprised that Vernon wanted to have this conversation in the driveway, where the neighbors might overhear, but he supposed that his uncle wanted to try to keep Harry's magic outside. Harry had to suppress a laugh at the thought of scraping his magic off at the door, as one might clean off their trainers.

Hedwig let out a bark of displeasure- likely due to still being cooped up in her cage- and Vernon's face began to turn red. "You'd better keep that bloody bird of yours under control or out it'll go. Your aunt and I-" Vernon's rant stopped abruptly, as he noticed the lady from Number Eight pretending to not pay attention to Harry and Vernon.

Vernon's fake smile was just as obvious as Number Eight's eavesdropping as he gave Harry a none-to-gentle shove towards the door.

The smallest bedroom was, like the rest of Privet Drive, exactly as Harry had left it. Harry opened up Hedwig's cage so she could stretch her wings- though he didn't open his window to let her out, as he didn't think his uncle would take too kindly to an owl flying about in daylight. He hesitated as he reached his trunk, though- he'd been thinking about taking out his books, but wasn't it the first day of summer? Surely he could take a few days- or even a few weeks- to relax before starting his summer assignments.

With a heavy sigh, he opened his trunk anyway and pulled out the top book. Hufflepuff wasn't just the house of the loyal, after all, and one couldn't spend a year among them without picking up a strong work ethic. As Harry opened the book he'd pulled- potions, as it happened- he pulled out a quill and parchment and got to work, doing his very best to keep his mind off of the small stone that was pressing against his leg.

The work went by slowly- Snape had assigned a particularly challenging assignment, and without Ernie's help it was slow going. Despite Snape's best efforts, Harry felt that he wasn't particularly bad at potions, but he knew that Ernie was quite a bit better. As he wrote, though, the reality of his time at Privet Drive started to sink in. He would be doing all of his summer work like this- by himself, with no one to help him and no one for him to help, with no one to talk to and keep him company. Just... quiet and solitude. A year ago that would have been a welcome relief at the Dursleys' home, but now Harry desired more than simply being left alone.

But even more than the fact that he wouldn't see his friends for a month was the question of what to do with the Philosopher's Stone. His last weeks at Hogwarts had been busy enough that he'd not really thought about it, but now that he was left alone with his thoughts he couldn't get it out of his mind. He felt a bit guilty about deceiving the Headmaster- while Dumbledore had certainly done his fair share of being sneaky this past year, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit of shame that he'd sunk to that same level.

On the other hand, Dumbledore had mentioned that he thought it best that the stone would be destroyed, despite the fact that without it Nicholas Flamel would die. While Harry certainly felt it was a laudable goal to keep the stone from falling into Voldemort's hands, what right did Dumbledore- or anyone- have to condemn a man to die for it?

Voldemort was another thing that weighed heavily on Harry's mind. He knew, now, why Voldemort had come for him- at least, to an extent. And it was quite obvious that he would continue to pursue Harry until one of them was gone for good.

And Voldemort knew Harry had the stone. It was another reason Harry was feeling a bit both guilty and relieved that he didn't tell the Headmaster about it. Dumbledore was sure that Harry would be safe here with the Dursleys, even from Voldemort, and the Headmaster had certainly done a poor job of protecting it himself. But Harry knew that, if the Headmaster was wrong and Voldemort _could _get at him even here, there was little Harry could do to protect the stone on his own.

With an annoyed sigh, Harry closed his potions book with a bit more force than was needed- though he was careful not to be loud enough to disturb the Dursleys. He had too much on his mind to identify the seven uses of powdered figwart and how it would interact with essence of sawgrass in a drought of clarity.

Instead, Harry pulled out a few fresh sheets of parchment and started to write short notes to his friends. They'd insisted, one and all, that he write them as soon as he got to the Dursleys. Never mind that he'd just seen them a few hours prior- they knew enough about his life outside the magical world that none of them were willing to let him go even a day without contact. It was really a bit annoying, Harry thought, but he was smiling as he started writing the first letter.

HP – HP – HP

To Harry's surprise, his first week back at the Dursleys was not nearly as bad as he'd imagined it would be. He missed his friends, of course, and hadn't heard back from any of them yet, but he dutifully wrote them every couple of days as he'd promised. He was, admittedly, starting to wonder why no one had written him back yet, but he had enough faith in his friends to figure they had good reasons. Justin, for instance, was muggleborn, and Harry didn't know if he had access to an owl. He'd have to tell Hedwig to stay at Justin's next time he sent a letter out, so that his friend could respond if he wished.

Aside from his uncle's initial warnings, the Dursleys had stayed out of Harry's way. Harry, of course, wanted as little to do with them as possible, so by mutual, silent agreement, Harry and the Dursleys almost never crossed paths. Harry's meals- meager though they were- were usually taken in his room and shared with Hedwig. He still had some chores, of course, but not nearly as many as he used to. All of his indoor chores were being done by his aunt, now, as having Harry clean inside the house meant risking running into him. As for the outdoor work, well, Harry reasoned that all of the gardening was not unlike herbology, though none of the plants would try to kill him. At the very least, it would make sure he wasn't out of practice for next term.

As had happened several times already in that first week, Harry found himself taking a break from writing letters and working on his summer assignments in order to stare at the Philosopher's Stone. The stone continued to vex Harry. He'd finally given in to a bit of curiosity and spent a bit of time studying it- which, without access to his magic, had basically meant staring at it and touching it to various things until he got bored. As expected, this 'study' hadn't turned up anything useful. In truth, Harry knew now that there was no way he was going to keep the stone himself. He had no real way to keep it out of Voldemort's hands, but more importantly, it simply didn't belong to him. It belonged to Nicholas Flamel, and keeping it would be tantamount to stealing.

He had a very, very general idea of where Flamel lived due to the research Ernie had done while they were trying to learn about the stone, but wasn't sure how to get the stone to him. He supposed he could write the man a letter and perhaps arrange a meeting- it wasn't as though Flamel would turn him over to Voldemort if he was a friend of Dumbledore, after all. But there was still the matter of finding out where he lived in order to get the letter to him.

"It's not like I could just give you a letter for Flamel and send you out to find him," Harry said with a smile as he glanced over at Hedwig. The owl had been his only real companion this year, and he found himself feeling a bit bad at how he'd spent so little time with her while at Hogwarts. Fortunately, a bit of bribery with some owl treats had ensured there were no hard feelings.

Harry turned back to his work- transfiguration, this time, but just as challenging as potions had been- and nearly fell out of his chair as Hedwig hopped over to his desk and stuck out her leg, waiting for him to give her a letter.

It took Harry a moment to realize what prompted Hedwig to act this way. "You know how to get him a letter?" Harry asked, and his owl bobbed her head in response. Harry paused for a moment, then shrugged. Far be it for him to question his post owl on how she did her job. It wasn't as though he could do it any better, after all. If Hedwig could really deliver the letter, though, that meant Harry needed to come up with a polite way to tell a very ancient wizard that the impossibly rare magical artifact that he thought was lost forever- and without which said ancient wizard would die- was in fact inside the pocket of a not-quite 12-year-old boy.

HP – HP – HP

Unlike Harry, Albus Dumbledore was not having a very good week at all. His first order of business after the students left school was to tell his old friend Nicholas Flamel that the Philosopher's Stone- which Nicholas had entrusted to Dumbledore- had been destroyed. It was, of course, better than Voldemort gaining possession of the stone. But Nicholas hadn't quite seen it that way.

"Dumbledore, I've kept the stone safe through nearly six centuries and nine dark lords. You have it for one year- one!- and you manage to get it destroyed," his old- and perhaps now, former- friend had said. He knew it was a bad sign that Nicholas was calling him by his last name.

"It is for the best, Nicholas. Imagine if Voldemort had managed to get ahold of it and used it regain his body. The world is not yet ready to face a rejuvenated dark lord." Albus thought his response had been quite reasonable.

"I don't give two figs for your dark lord, Dumbledore! There's always another dark lord. How am I going to tell my wife that she's got less than a year to live, all because I listened to some wet-behind-the-ears boy?" Albus had opened his mouth to respond, but Nicholas had closed the floo connection and refused his attempts to contact him ever since.

If that had been all, he would have accepted it with good grace. Nicholas' response had been unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. Albus could only hope that his old friend would come around to his own point of view before it was too late.

But just a few minutes ago, he'd gotten an urgent owl from his brother Aberforth, who'd seen Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, along with her brother and sister-in-law, marching up the path leading to Hogwarts from the village. The fact that Aberforth had sent the message despite the lingering bad blood between the brothers meant that Amelia looked like she meant business. He wondered why they'd chosen to come via Hogsmeade rather than flooing to his office, though. Perhaps they wanted him to know they were coming?

Albus didn't have to wait long to find out. Before long, the Hogwarts wards alerted him that they'd arrived, and he directed the gargoyle statue that guarded his stairwell to step aside and admit them. Part of him hoped that his 'all-knowing' wizard act might put them in a better mindset, but he knew Amelia well enough to know that she wasn't likely to be distracted. And he had a pretty good idea of what she was here about.

"Come in, Amelia," he said just as the door ward alerted him to their arrival- specifically, that it was in fact Amelia, and not either of the others who had been about to knock on the door. It was his own creation, one he was quite proud of- a silent ward keyed to his own magical signature that would identify the wand closest to it. He didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of every last wand ever sold to a British wizard or witch like Olivander, but he did pride himself on remembering most of the wands held by his former students- especially the particularly notable ones.

If Amelia Bones was impressed by his little trick, it didn't do anything to brighten her thunderous expression as she brusquely took one of the chairs in front of his desk. Jacob and Laura sat to either side of Amelia, but it was obvious to Albus that he'd find no sympathy from either of them.

"Albus," Amelia said without preamble, "I hope- I sincerely hope- that you have a very, very good reason why my niece came home this week telling her parents that she'd been put under the Imperius Curse by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Albus lowered his glasses and met Amelia's furious gaze directly. He caught flashes of thought, flickering images of Amelia's discussion with Susan, a brief glimpse of meeting Harry at Christmas, but Amelia was a master duelist and head of a Ministry department and thus had a some rudimentary Occlumency training. Albus knew he'd have to push if he wanted anything more, and he'd likely alert Amelia of his attempt at Legilimency if he tried.

"It was Quirinus Quirrell who had cast the curse, Amelia, though Voldemort was indeed the catalyst." He honestly wasn't sure if he was helping or harming his case, but in this instance he felt it best to get the truth out either way. After all, if he could get the head of the DMLE to believe in Voldemort's return, it would go a long way towards preparing the rest of the world to stand against the dark lord.

"I see. I had sincerely hoped that it was a flight of fancy, that perhaps there had simply been a spell accident or something and Susan was confused. And how exactly did _he _get into the castle on your watch?" Amelia asked. Her anger was still barely held beneath the surface, though she was holding it in check.

"Voldemort lives, Amelia. He is trapped- for now- as a sort of spirit. He has a body only when he can share one with another."

"That does _not _answer my question, Albus. It's your job to ensure that your professors are suitable. This includes being free from possession by dark lords!"

Albus nodded his acknowledgement of the rebuke. He'd been rather suspicious of Quirrell, but hadn't had direct proof of what was going on until it was too late. He didn't think that Amelia would be very pleased to hear _that _particular bit of information!

"Rest assured, Amelia, I take the safety of my students very seriously. In fact, I've already managed to find a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the coming year. Gilderoy Lockheart comes highly recommended, and his expertise is well documented." Albus was actually surprised he'd found someone so quickly. There had been years where he hadn't found a new professor until just prior to the start of term. Lockhart could be a bit of a glory hound, true, but if even if his books were exaggerated, there was quite a bit of potential there. Albus had done a bit of fact-finding over the last week, and had easily found proof of his claimed accomplishments from _Break with a Banshee _and _Marauding with Monsters_. A few of the details had been off, but the information was accurate enough to prove that Lockhart wasn't simply making his stories up.

"Where is Quirrell now? He needs to be questioned. And he ought to be in a Ministry holding cell, possession or no!"

Albus winced internally. Amelia was not going to like this. "Sadly, Quirinus did not survive his possession and abandonment by Lord Voldemort."

Amelia looked ready to curse him there and then, but it was Jacob Bones who spoke first. "Let me get this straight, Professor. Our daughter was put under an unforgivable curse, the _dark lord_ who killed most of my family was running amok in your school, and your defense professor _died_, and you didn't think it was important to inform us- let alone the DMLE- of any of this?"

Albus frowned, and adopted a stern tone of voice. "Yes, Jacob. Can you imagine what would happen? If I had made a formal report the DMLE, Amelia would have been obligated to investigate. That means all of the children involved- including young Susan- would have been subjected to days, if not weeks, of testimony, likely under veritaserum. And, of course, what do you think would happen when they spoke of Voldemort? There is no proof he was ever here aside from the words of two children." Amelia tried to interrupt, but Albus kept on talking. "There is _no proof_. And you know as well as I that there are certain elements in our society that would believe young Susan's words. They wouldn't say so, of course. In fact, I could very well see, say, Lucius Malfoy encouraging the Minister to push for young Susan to be sent to St. Mungo's for an extended stay, until they could cure her of her delusion. Is that what you wish, Jacob?"

The three stared at Albus, shocked into silence. Did they truly think he'd not reported the incident just to cover himself? Dealing with Voldemort was Albus' paramount concern; his own pride did not even tip the scales when weighed against banishing Voldemort for good. If he'd thought that reporting the truth to the Ministry would have helped, he'd have done so in an instant.

Jacob looked abashed. "I'm... sorry, Professor. It's just, well, our little girl. Susan shouldn't..."

Dumbledore nodded, sadly. Innocence was always the first casualty in war. "I know, and I _am _sorry for my part in what happened. All I can do is promise to do my best to keep the students safe."

Amelia was not so easily mollified, however. "That still doesn't explain how you failed to notice that Quirrell was working with You-Know-Who."

Albus was hesitant to answer. They would not care to hear this at all, but short of lying he didn't have much choice. "I... suspected that there was something wrong with Quirinus. That is why I had Severus keep an eye on him throughout the year." He held up a hand to forestall Amelia's argument. "I had suspicions, only, Amelia, and nothing even firm enough to say that I suspected he was in league with Voldemort. I only knew that he had been acting oddly."

"Albus, it is your job to ensure that things like this do not happen. I have the utmost respect for you, and Merlin knows, if _he _comes back we're going to need you protecting Hogwarts. But, I find my patience cut very short when my 12-year-old niece is put under an unforgivable curse by one of your professors." Albus closed his eyes wearily. She was correct, of course. "Let me be abundantly clear. I will not allow Susan to be put in this sort of danger ever again. I'm tempted to go to the Board of Governors right now and try to get them to replace you. I'm not without influence there, and I'm sure Malfoy would leap at the chance to see you out. It's only my concern over who he would try to get the Board to replace you with that stays my hand."

He nodded genially. "I will, of course, abide by the Board's wishes, even if it is for me to step down."

"I hope it doesn't come to that, Albus, I truly don't."

HP – HP – HP

Harry jerked awake that night to the sound of bedlam. He came to sitting rigidly upright and flailed about for his glasses. Loud screeching filled his ears, and he could see outlined against his window what appeared to be a white blob fighting with a slightly larger greyish one. He frantically groped for his glasses and made 'shushing' sounds towards the clashing duo, but knew it was in vain when his room flooded with light. The instant the light came on, a loud 'crack' resounded through his room and the grey blob vanished, leaving Harry with an irate uncle and a now-quiet owl.

Quietly, not daring to make any sudden movements, Harry put on his glasses. Hedwig flew over to him, carrying a letter that seemed a bit worse for wear, but he his eyes were focused solely on his uncle. Vernon had never quite reached that shade of purple before, and his hands were making grasping motions, as though Vernon was picturing them throttling Harry or Hedwig- or, most likely, both. His chest heaved and his heavy breathing was, to Harry's ears, almost as loud as Hedwig's screeching had been.

It was over a minute before Vernon spoke, and when he did, it was so abrupt that Harry nearly jumped out of his skin once more. "Ruddy owl! Sleepless nights! I've had enough... freakishness... has to go..."

Vernon turned around sharply as he spoke, slamming Harry's door behind him as he stomped out of the smallest bedroom. Harry could still hear some his rather loud mutterings even after Vernon left.

Harry fell back to his bed, exhausted, and was about to fall back asleep when Hedwig nipped at his hand.

"What is it," he said, groggily. Hedwig nipped at him again, and held her leg out towards him. "Oh, yeah. The letter!"

Harry felt a surge of excitement as he laid eyes on the unfamiliar scrawl that addressed the letter to him, and, his tiredness gone for the moment, eagerly opened the letter as Hedwig flew over to her cage.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I was terribly surprised when I read your letter. Albus had assured me that my stone had been destroyed, lost forever in that infernal mirror of his! I am even more surprised that a young man such as yourself would be so willing to part with it. It is, after all, a rare and powerful artifact, and the lures of eternal life and unlimited gold can be quite tempting. Let me tell you, it takes quite a bit to impress a man of my age!_

_I understand- and respect- your concerns about this dark lord you've got running around. He would not be the first one who tried to steal the stone. I will be able to keep it safe._

_You didn't mention as much in your letter, but I assume you'll want some sort of reward for returning my stone? We can speak of it when we meet. I'm sure I can come up with something suitable- after all, I've been collecting useful things for over six hundred years. There's bound to be something I can find to tickle your fancy._

_Albus mentioned years ago that you lived with muggles. I assume that this is still the case. As I am unsure of how much they know and don't wish to have to obliviate your family- and I want to get my stone back as soon as possible- I will come to the park near your home at midnight tomorrow. I'm sure a young man like yourself has a fondness for a bit of sneaking out, yes?_

_Again, you have my thanks._

_Nicholas Flamel_

Harry grinned. He didn't know too much about the wizarding world yet, but he had a feeling that meeting the legendary alchemist would be quite the experience. He lost his grin, though, as he thought about the fact that this was, in fact, his first letter from _anyone _since he'd come to Privet Drive. At least now he had something of an answer, even if it did lead to more questions. _Something _was attacking owls and taking his mail. Hedwig, it seemed, was made of sterner stuff than his friends' post owls, and had refused to relinquish her burden to anyone but him. With that thought, he went over to Hedwig's cage and checked over her. He wasn't sure if her fight with the grey... thing... had harmed her.

It was with a great sense of relief that Harry laid back down on his bed several minutes later. Hedwig seemed fine, though she'd had a bit of dirty cloth caught on one of her talons that Harry had quickly confiscated and disposed of. "Good girl, Hedwig," Harry said tiredly- but with great pride- as he rolled over to finish his night's sleep. His worry over his uncle's reaction, and over whatever that grey thing was, melted away as he fell into a deep slumber.

He awoke to find his window covered in heavy steel bars.

At first, he wasn't sure if he was still dreaming or not. His uncle's loud voice from below his now very secure window proved that his situation was very real.

"Yes, I know they're unsightly, but we can't risk the valuables. Burglars about and all that, after all."

Of course, Harry knew better. With his window so secured, there would be no more flights for Hedwig. It seemed rather overboard to Harry. He would have thought his uncle would take the much easier (and far less pricey) choice and try to lock Hedwig in her cage. Maybe he thought that Harry could use magic to open a lock, but not remove the bars? Of course, that was actually true, but Vernon had no way to know that.

Nonetheless, Harry was determined to get some answers. He pulled on his door- and found that it, too, had been secured. As soon as he tried the door, his aunt spoke, her voice muffled by the door between them.

"You didn't _really _think we'd just let you get away with it, did you, you idiot boy?" Her voice was mocking, and the confidence of someone who knew they were in full control. "You're never going back to that freak school. You'll go to Stonewall and be grateful for it. Vernon and I have had enough!"

Harry's thoughts were racing. He could use the unlocking charm, but he was forbidden to use magic outside of school. What would happen if he broke that rule? Harry had no idea, but wasn't willing to risk it unless he had to.

"My friends will come looking for me if I don't write them," he said. Hopefully, the thought of more magical people on Privet Drive would convince his aunt to let him out. If nothing else, he _had _to make that meeting tonight. Nicholas Flamel didn't seem like the sort of person you wanted to skip meeting.

To his very great surprise, his aunt just laughed at him. "We told your little freak friend that we were moving, and that you were going to another school."

"What? How?"

"A letter in the post, for you. As if anyone _normal _and _respectable _would be writing you. Once we realized it was from one of your abnormal little friends, we threw it away. But Vernon kept the address, and this morning we wrote them and said that you weren't coming back, and that they should tell all the other freaks too."

A letter? In the muggle post? "How did a letter for me end up in the post?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. But with a bit of luck, that Finchley boy will tell the other freaks that you're gone forever."

Justin! Of course, Justin would know how to use the muggle post. He knew in that moment that it was only a matter of time before he got out. Justin would _definitely _tell the others what was going on, and there's no way his friends would let him vanish into the muggle world without a fight. But none of that would help him make his meeting with Flamel that night. With a defeated sigh, Harry went to his desk and started halfheartedly working on his charms essay. He needed to think...

Unfortunately, by nightfall, no brilliant schemes had occurred to Harry. He'd tried to work the lock open with a pin, but he'd found that there were several deadbolts on the other side. The door and locks were too sturdy for him to force, and he didn't want to try magic except as an absolute last resort. He wasn't even sure if the unlocking charm would open multiple locks. He'd only ever tried it on a single lock at a time before.

The window was even more unlikely. His uncle had done a good job in a short time- the bars were heavy steel and quite firmly attached to the outer wall. There wasn't enough room between them for him to squeeze through- there wasn't even enough room for Hedwig to get through. At least, not safely. He thought he _might _be able to shove her through the bars if he tried, but there was no way she'd be able to right herself and fly, or even glide, before she hit the ground.

As the minutes turned to hours, Harry felt a quiet desperation growing within him. He _had _to get out. He had to make the meeting with Flamel. He didn't want the man to think he'd changed his mind about the stone, nor did he want him to think it was a prank.

At 11:30 that night, Harry found himself pacing in front of the door. He was usually not too bad about controlling his temper, but now he was furious. And he was desperate. He watched another minute tick away on his old, worn clock, and stomped the floor in frustration. And yet, he still wasn't willing to risk using magic, not without knowing what the cost would be. Would he be fined? Suspended from school? Expelled? His wand could be snapped, his magic bound. He could be thrown into prison.

Another minute.

He resumed his pacing, trying to ignore the minutes ticking by. He pulled angrily on the door, but it would budge. Would Flamel come looking for him when he didn't show? How angry would he be? Maybe he'd even use magic to help the Dursleys trap Harry even further.

More minutes ticked by. 11:45. Fuming, Harry turned to the door. He stomped over to it, making sure to make as much noise as possible. He could hear his uncle grumbling angrily. Good! Let him hear. He'd trapped Harry like an animal. He deserved to lose a bit of sleep over it.

Harry's fists clenched. _Like an animal. Bars on the window. Fed through a _cat flap_ in the door. _His anger boiled over, and he pounded on the door as hard as he could. _Thud. THUD._

On the third hit, the door exploded.

Harry's eyes widened as he stood there in shock, and for a moment, it appeared as though the entire house flickered with a pale light. He could hear his uncle shouting, his aunt screaming, and his cousin wailing. Hedwig let out a shocked screech at the noise, but seemed the calmest of the residents of Number Four.

The door to Harry's room was gone. The wall near the door was gone. The washroom across the hall was gone. The outer wall was gone. Harry staggered, feeling suddenly drained, and the light he couldn't quite be sure he was seeing brightened before leaving his sight.

"Out!" his uncle bellowed. "I want you out! Right this minute! House destroyed! Get out!"

Harry turned to face his uncle, his anger and his energy spent. He said nothing as his aunt walked to Vernon's side, staring, wide-eyed, at the destruction.

She turned to face Harry. He could see it in her eyes. She was unsure; she obviously wanted him gone, but something was holding her back.

"If he goes..." she said, hesitantly.

"I don't ruddy care. We'll move. The freaks will never find us. What if Dudley had been in there?" Vernon said, gesturing wildly to the destroyed water closet.

Petunia's expression hardened at the perceived threat to her son. She took a deep breath. "You have no home here. Get out!"

For a moment that seemed an eternity, Harry just stood there, shocked. Then his scar prickled faintly, and he thought he saw that pale light around the house once more. And then the light rushed at him.

_A/N ladysavay made a good point about continuing Correspondence Uninterrupted rather than starting Year Two as a separate sequel. I want to make sure that anyone who's interested in continuing the story is able to find it with a minimum of fuss, rather than having to search it out- especially those of you who've already read through Year One and want to find Year Two. So, we'll be continuing straight through to the end right here. Further author's notes will be in the profile, and, month by month in my forum, but I wanted to put this here so everyone who was interested knew what was up. Thank you for reading!_


	16. Walking the Broken Road

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

Frozen in place as he was, Harry never even had a chance to react before the light- pale and wan no more, but instead brilliant in its intensity- rushed towards him, surrounding him, melting _into_ him. He felt a tingling in his fingertips as the light continued to rush into him. It grew in intensity quickly, spreading up his arms and into the rest of his body. Within the span of two heartbeats his entire body was suffused with a sort of nervous energy that practically had him bouncing in place. It felt a bit like a night near the end of term, when he and Ernie had stayed up eating countless chocolate frogs. They'd been sick the morning after from all the sugar they'd eaten, but until then, they'd both been filled with boundless energy.

Within moments, the light was gone as though it had never been. Harry, still dazed from the sudden rush, found himself staring at one of the tiles from the water closet that was stubbornly clinging to the remains of the wall. The light blue tile was covered in dust, yet strangely undamaged by... whatever it was he'd done. _It's strange what sort of things you notice at times like these_, Harry thought.

He was pulled from his musings by the sound of Vernon clearing his throat. The beefy man's arm twitched forward, almost of its own volition, before he yanked it back. The look in his eyes was murderous, though, and Harry had no idea how long he might stay his hand. Harry gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement as he ducked back into his room, quickly gathering the things he wanted- or needed- to take with him.

Harry had wanted to leave the Dursleys since, well, as long as he'd been there, but he never dreamed that it would be anything like this. He'd imagined himself telling them off, perhaps showing off a bit of whatever success had given him the means to leave. There had been thoughts of sneaking away in the dead of night, his bags packed in secret as he made his way to a secret friend's house, or the home of a previously unknown relative. Later, after he'd learned of magic, that too had become a part of his fantasies. Thoughts of turning his relatives into slugs, or cursing their feet backwards, became a part of his regular 'leaving the Dursleys' daydreams.

He never imagined that he'd be kicked out after destroying half of the house, with no plan, no destination- nowhere to go.

Harry packed quickly, cramming as much as he could into his trunk. He didn't own much, but there was only so much space in his trunk and he was unwilling to leave behind what few belongings he owned if he didn't have to. Still, some things had to go- and it wasn't a difficult choice between, for instance, the clothes he'd gotten on Christmas and his first year History book. He had to stifle a chuckle at the thought of his aunt or uncle coming across it while cleaning out the room. Would they even be able to bring themselves to touch it? The image of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley, all huddled at the back wall, not-so-bravely facing down the small stack of books Harry had had to leave behind- Vernon perhaps brandishing the fire poker menacingly at them- shook Harry from his dark mood.

His letters were the last to go into the trunk, including unfinished notes to several of his year mates in Hufflepuff. Despite not having heard back from any of them in the almost two weeks since coming back to Privet Drive- and his own annoyance at that fact- he quickly scribbled a note to Susan before stuffing the rest in his over-full trunk. He tied it to Hedwig, tuning out the sounds of annoyance and impatience coming from the remains of the hallway outside his doorway. "Take this to Susan. Don't come back to me here; I'll be long gone," he said, smiling a bit at finally being able to say those long-coveted words. His dark mood had already passed, now that he was starting to form a vague plan for the future. He did, after all, have several invitations for summer visits- he'd just see about taking advantage of them a bit earlier than planned until he figured out what to do for the longer term. "In fact, don't leave at all until you've got a response," he continued. "Are you... will you be able to find me if I'm someplace else?"

His owl nipped at his finger and took flight, winging through the gaping hole and barking happily at her freedom. Harry sincerely hoped that that was a 'yes,' else he was in for a very long wait.

"Boy!" Vernon shouted from the hall, though Harry's uncle still hadn't mustered up the courage to actually come to the remains of his doorway. He could hear a voice calling up through the hole, and vaguely heard his aunt responding that everything was okay. A sharp crack- the sound of the tile finally giving up its valiant fight and falling to the kitchen below- told Harry that it was definitely time to go.

Thankfully, his departure from Number Four Privet Drive was mostly unnoticed. The commotion of his outburst had, of course, been like honey to all the flies who lived nearby. The neighbors were, of course, quite concerned about Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley's well-being, and not at all interested in digging up the story of what exactly had happened. Their efforts at not finding out what happened meant that all of their attention was focused on the Dursleys, and made it easy for Harry to slip away unseen. Once he was beyond Privet Drive, though, Harry stood still, completely at a loss for where to go next. It would take time for Hedwig to go to Susan's house, and even more time to get back, given that she was waiting for Susan to write a response.

He also didn't want to go too far. He trusted in Hedwig's sense of direction and marvelled at her ability to find her destination on scant information, but he also didn't want to go too far and press his luck. Harry shook his head, trying to focus. His fingers were still tingling, though the sensation had faded from the rest of his body. His mind felt a bit sluggish, though, as the extra, pent-up energy started to leech away, leaving only weariness behind. He decided to take a walk in the park, hoping to clear his head.

_One of the first times I've actually gotten to _walk_ in this park, _he thought as he meandered past the narrow alley that was often used as a shortcut between the park and Privet Drive. Not for the first time tonight, he was very grateful for the weight-reducing charms on his trunk as he swapped the hand he was using to haul it around. As he idly stretched and tensed his now-free hand to ease out the stiffness brought on by dragging his still somewhat heavy trunk around, he caught sight of a robed man pacing near the park's one remaining swing- the others having been long ago destroyed by Dudley and his friends. Harry's first thought was that it was Dumbledore, though he banished the notion immediately as he caught a better look at the man.

It was the robes, first, that told Harry that this was not his Headmaster and he reflexively grasped his wand- just in case. The man's robes were quiet and subdued- not at all like the loud, brilliantly colored and often eye-clashing ones Dumbledore preferred. The man was white-haired like the Headmaster, but unlike Dumbledore, this man kept his much shorter- shorn just past the shoulders and held back in a tight knot at the nape of his neck. He had no beard, either, but even at this distance- and in poor lighting- Harry could see an unfriendly expression on the man's face as he paced. Harry's grip on his wand tightened as he backed away slowly, hoping he wouldn't be seen.

He cursed himself under his breath for stuffing his invisibility cloak into his trunk instead of keeping it on his person as the stranger's pacing abruptly stopped and his gaze turned sharply towards Harry.

"Potter?" the man called in a clear, though gruff, voice. "Harry Potter? It's about bloody time you got here. Thought Albus would have taught his charges manners... punctuality..." the man said, his voice trailing off in mutters as he took long, ground-eating strides towards Harry. Harry nearly pulled his wand, more than a little concerned about the rapid approach of the strange wizard- for surely that's what he was, as only a wizard would dress in such a manner, and know who Dumbledore was.

And then it struck him, and he couldn't help but laugh at his own foolishness. This man was, after all, the entire reason the night's chain of events had occurred, why he was banging on the door in the first place. And even with his timely escape, he still wound up being late for his meeting with Nicholas Flamel.

With a sheepish smile, Harry reached into his pocket and sought about for the stone as the old man- the _very _old man, though he didn't look a day over fifty- reached him. "I have your st-"

"Ssh!" Flamel hissed, waving a hand at Harry. Up close, the differences between Flamel as Dumbledore were even more pronounced, and Harry was a bit embarrassed that the thought that this was Dumbledore had even crossed his mind. Where the Headmaster was tall, Flamel was of average height, and a bit heavyset. And while the Headmaster's eyes were a piercing blue, Flamel's were a much darker shade, hinting at hidden knowledge and deep mysteries.

"Not here, boy, anyone could hear us," he continued, glancing around cautiously. "Take my arm, I'll apparate us someplace safe to hand over the stone."

Harry bristled a bit at being called 'boy'- that being his uncle's preferred epithet- but nonetheless started to reach forward and accept the invitation. Then he hesitated. His trust for adults was generally low at the best of times, and this man was a stranger to him, legendary alchemist or no.

Rather than take offense at his hesitation, though, Flamel merely smiled. The expression looked... odd, on his face. Rather like an old, weather-worn rock smiling. "Cautious, eh? Maybe there's a bit of brains between those ears after all, boy. I'll tell you what," he said, producing a wand from within his robes. Harry tensed, but to his surprise, Flamel held it out to him. "I'll let you hold this until you feel safe returning it to me."

Harry still hadn't spent much time studying wizard culture, but even he knew enough to be shocked at this gesture. Wands were _personal_, and for this man to entrust his to Harry meant that he was willing to go to just about any length to earn Harry's trust in return. Wordlessly, Harry accepted the wand, holding it very carefully as he took the man's arm. The wand felt... _wrong _somehow, as though he had been judged by the wooden stick in his hand and was found wanting. Before he could try to make sense of this sensation, though, Flamel turned in place, and with a loud 'pop' and the most unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a too-tight tube, they were gone.

HP – HP – HP

Harry Potter and Nicholas Flamel were not the only wizards apparating in Little Whinging that night. Carefully disillusioned and, as an extra precaution, wearing a mask and robes that had not been seen in over a decade, the man cautiously approached the damaged Number Four, carefully avoiding the teeming mass of muggles that squirmed and writhed, so much like the disgusting worms they were. But his interest was not on the muggles, but rather on the house itself. He hadn't the faintest idea what could have caused the extensive amount of damage to the place, though in a very real way it reminded him of the condition of Harry Potter's last home, after he'd somehow vanquished the Dark Lord. Then, too, the home had been demolished by some incredible power, but he and those of like mind had always thought it was the Dark Lord's power that caused the damage- not that of some insignificant half blood. His lip curled in disgust at the mere idea that the child of a mudblood could control that sort of power, but seeing such damage a second time gave him pause.

No one, not even the old inner circle, had known exactly why it was that the Dark Lord has sought the boy so feverishly in the days before His end, though many had- very quietly- voiced their theories.

But he knew, courtesy of a close family servant- another half blood, though a useful tool nonetheless. The mere idea that the sole descendent of the great Salazar Slytherin could have as his equal a mediocre boy- and one with tainted blood at that- was ludicrous, of course. All of his reports from Hogwarts confirmed his suspicions- the boy was a Hufflepuff, part of the house of the unworthy, and untalented. He relied on others to get him through his classes, and exhibited none of the talents his pureblooded father had- nor even much of the limited ability of his mudblood mother, much as it grated to even consider her at all.

And yet, there were strange things afoot as well. There were... disturbing signs. He'd heard about the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, though not what was causing the deaths, despite Dumbledore's foolish attempts to keep it quiet. And from his sources in the ministry, he'd learned that something untoward had happened to this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Not that that in and of itself was surprising- Hogwarts seemed to run through such instructors with startling regularity, and some said it was his old master's curse, a curse so potent that even 10 years after the Dark Lord's end it still stymied the so-called 'greatest wizard's' attempts to put a stop to it.

More disturbingly, though, were some of the _other _signs that had been felt, just beyond the shadows of his perception. This address, for example. He'd tried to find out where Harry Potter lived since the fall of the Dark Lord, ostensibly to protect the boy from reprisals- or at least, that's what he'd told the Wizengamot when he petitioned for custody. He'd also cited his relationship to the boy, through his wife's connection to the Potters via the Blacks. It was a distant connection, but blood still mattered, despite the meddling of mudblood lovers and blood traitors. And yet, he'd been denied. Dumbledore had stonewalled him at every turn, and as he was facing his own inquisition at the time, he couldn't properly devote resources to that fight as well as his own. By the time the dust had settled (and his purse substantially lighter), the boy had been safely ensconced... here, in this muggle hovel. And despite his many contacts and liberal spending at the ministry, no one seemed able to provide the address of Harry Potter.

So when he found an anonymous note in a long-disused secret drop point with this address written in an unfamiliar hand, he was naturally suspicious. That particular location had not been used since the fall of the Dark Lord, and even then, only the Dark Lord and a select few of His followers knew of it at all. He'd carefully queried both Nott and the Carrows- the only surviving people who knew about the drop point, and they all denied any knowledge of it. He believed them, too. Their surprise- and their curiosity- were genuine. He himself had not even checked the spot for years, and the only reason he knew something was amiss was an old enchantment he'd laid to notify him when something was there.

He was left wondering, his insides twisted just a bit as he asked- who was it that had left this bit of long sought-after information in such a secret, unknown location? And for what reason? Even with the address- delivered months ago- he had found himself unable to come to Privet Drive until today. He'd certainly made plenty of effort before this night. He'd tried apparation, portkeys... he'd even, Merlin help him, tried apparating to a more distant point and _walking _here like some common muggle. And yet, inexplicably, he was unable to find the home of Harry Potter. He wasn't even able to come close, no matter how he'd tried.

Then tonight happened. He still wasn't sure what tonight even _was_, nor what exactly happened, but he was determined to find out. He had, once again, been given the address of Harry Potter, but this time by a contact within the ministry. The man had long-standing instructions to notify him the very moment that Harry Potter's location was known, regardless of the hour. And so, he'd decided to chance apparation once again, not really expecting it to work.

It was a measure of how... unsettled things had been that he was not terribly surprised that apparation brought him right to his destination, even where it had failed so many times before. As near as he could tell, none of Harry Potter's protectors were here- yet. Despite a great desire to try to learn what had happened here, his first priority was to find and secure the boy. He wasn't even sure yet what he planned to do with Potter- as much as he'd loved the old days, he had no real desire to bend knee to any but his own ambitions any longer. But something _vexed _him about the entire situation, and he was sure he would find a way to gain... something, by exerting control over Potter in some capacity. He just wasn't sure what that was yet.

In any event, it was quickly apparent that this was a wasted trip. Every indication was that the Potter boy was no longer here. The area around Privet Drive was about as muggle as muggle could get- aside from the proverbial elephant in the room, there was no evidence of any sort of magic lingering at Privet Drive whatsoever. Keenly aware that time was limited and it certainly would not do to be caught out here by any of Potter's protectors- especially in his current garp- Lucius Malfoy disappeared from Privet Drive with a pronounced crack, uncaring of the nearby muggles who would undoubtedly be terrified of the unexplained noise.

HP – HP – HP

Harry staggered as he and Flamel arrived, staggering as his body was suddenly loosed from its invisible constraints. A sudden thought occurred to Harry as he steadied himself and checked his and Flamel's wands to make sure they survived the trip unscathed. He turned towards the older man, his face pensive. "That was... don't you need a wand to perform magic? How did you do that?"

Flamel simply gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I've been a student of magic for six and a half centuries, boy. I dare say I've only learned a fraction of a fraction of what there is to know. But there's more to magic than foolish wand waving and silly incantations, I'll tell you that much. Still feel like I'm safe now that you've got my wand?" he said with a brief, cackling laugh.

Harry reddened, both at the implied threat and Flamel's comments, so close to Snape's own on that very first day of class, but refused to take the bait. He was _reasonably _certain the man was having him on, and Harry thought that his use of Snape's words had to be intentional.

With a nonchalant shrug that was as comfortable as he could make it seem given his own extreme discomfort, he handed the wand back to Flamel. He was, truthfully, very antsy about holding the wand to begin with, and was glad to be well rid of it. Flamel's only response as he took back his wand as a loud 'harrumph.'

Flamel quickly led him up a narrow, winding dirt path. It was obviously disused, and really barely even a path at all. As they walked, Harry could feel the occasional cobblestone beneath his feet, but the road- if it even was once that- was obviously broken, shattered until almost nothing remained. It was overgrown with the worst sort of weeds, and the rough, spindly grass made for uncomfortable walking. It crunched underfoot with every step, much the way frozen grass might, but the night was warm and humid. The grass was simply... brittle. Dead.

At the end of the path, Harry could see what appeared to be a ramshackle hovel. There were broken windows, and the roof had partially caved in. Something appeared to be stuck to the door, though it was too far away for Harry to make it out. He shivered, pulling his thin jacket tightly around himself. There was no grass near the house. Several feet out, in fact, the grass just... stopped. Untrained though he was, Harry felt a deep disquiet within himself. There was something _wrong _with this place. Nonetheless, Harry walked forward. There was something wrong with this place. And he was drawn to it.

"You don't, er, live here...?" he asked in the faintest whisper he could manage.

The old man choked on a laugh. "Live here?" he rasped. Even his voice was subdued, for all the scorn and contempt he managed to inject into those two words. "Boy, does it look like _anything _lives here?"

Harry didn't respond. He didn't have to. They trudged up the path in silence for several moments, before Harry dared speak again.

"Why are we here?" he asked, hoping that it didn't make him sound foolish to do so.

"Because this place has one of the highest concentrations of ambient dark magic in all of Britain."

Harry shivered again, and tried to keep his growing fear out of his voice. "Then... why this place? Why not someplace less... evil?"

Flamel let out an annoyed-sounding sigh, and stopped, turning a baleful gaze onto Harry. "You have my stone, right? You're not just playing some stupid game with me? No, don't answer that," he said as Harry opened his mouth to speak. With a shrug, Harry groped around in his pocket, seeking the stone. He just wanted to give it back and be done with this crazy old man once and for all.

"No, not yet!" Flamel gasped. He grabbed at Harry's arm, desperation in his eyes, and Harry backpedaled, his eyes wide with surprise and fright. He took another, more measured step backwards, wanting to put a bit of distance between himself and the apparently unhinged wizard.

"Why not?" he asked, slowly, as he gently lowered his trunk to the ground and inched the now free hand towards his wand.

Flamel scowled, but when he spoke, it was without the desperation that had frightened Harry just a moment earlier. "What do they teach you at that school of yours nowadays? Folding charms?" Shaking his head in disgust, Flamel continued without giving Harry time to respond. "The Philosopher's Stone is one of the most powerful light-oriented objects in history. It's practically a beacon for those who know what to look for. Closer to that house, well, the resonance of the atrocities committed here should mask the Stone nicely, long enough for me to protect it myself."

Harry pulled his hand from his pocket as though it had been burned. A beacon? And he'd been carrying it around for who-knows how long?

Flamel must have read his expression, because the old man laughed- softly. "Oh, don't be so jumpy, boy. For you or anyone else, it's dormant- just a pretty little rock, no magic at all. But in my hands, well..."

"So it's... safe?" he asked, still unsure of what exactly Flamel was saying.

"Of course it's not safe. Why do you think we're here?" Flamel said, waving a hand dramatically towards the run-down hovel. "But a Philosopher's Stone is a very personal artifact." At Harry's frown of confusion, Flamel shook his head. "That's right. _A _Philosopher's Stone, not _the _Philosopher's Stone. No one but me could use this. At least, not properly. But a skilled enchanter- or a powerful wizard- could break it down, study it- and learn to make their own."

Harry's eyes widened as realization hit. "Voldemort. He wouldn't just use it to come back to life- he'd use it to learn how to live forever."

Flamel nodded grimly, and his whisper was even lower as he spoke again. "Among others. But there are things far more terrible than eternal money and endless wealth. A Philosopher's Stone's most potent gift... is _knowledge_."

"Knowledge?" Harry asked, perplexed. Sure, knowledge was useful, but...

"Knowledge," Flamel confirmed. "_My _knowledge. Six and a half centuries of learning, of study, of _experiences_, all there for the taking."

"He'd be unstoppable," Harry whispered.

Flamel nodded. "Albus tells me he's the most dangerous, most terrible dark lord of all time." Flamel spat on the ground to show what he thought of _that _notion. "But for all of his raw power, he's still just a stupid boy who wasn't spanked enough as a child. But with my knowledge..."

Harry tried- and failed- to suppress a smirk at the image of someone giving Voldemort a spanking, but sobered quickly at the thought of how close he'd come to getting the Stone.

They started walking towards the hovel again, this time in silence. As they neared the door, Harry could finally make out what was stuck to the door- the long-decayed remains of a snake, nailed to the door. If Harry looked closely enough, it was almost as though the snake was still alive, still writhing in unending pain. "Why would someone do this to you," he asked softly, appalled at the casual cruelty on display.

Flamel's eyes shot towards Harry, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "What was that, boy?"

But Harry didn't respond. He remained transfixed by the dead snake. "So much evil," he muttered as he took a slow step towards the door. It was fixed in his vision, now. Nothing else existed. Five steps. Four. "But why? What are you hiding?" Behind him, Flamel had half-reached an arm towards Harry, an uncharacteristic look of fear on his face.

"_Enter and see, speaker,_" came the response- not from Flamel, but from the dead snake.

And slowly, inexorably, the door inched open.

HP – HP – HP

_A/N Sincerest apologies for this having taken so long. I will never willingly abandon this or any story I write, but I can't always promise timely updates, either. In this case, between work, illness, two complete rewrites, and a bit of writer's block, this took a bit longer than anticipated- and was a bit shorter than planned, too. However, I hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless. I've been working on improving my writing style- I've spent a fair bit of time reading good (and bad) fanfiction and novels alike, finding things I like and working on adapting my own writing to incorporate them. With luck, the next chapter should be out soon (tm). Thank you for reading and sticking with the story, even with the long delay!_


	17. The Blooded Stone

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

Never before had Harry been so drawn to anything as he was the unnatural darkness beyond the half-open door of this ramshackle hovel. Something... _called_ to him in a way he couldn't quiet explain. Everything else fell away- the Philosopher's Stone, Flamel, even Hogwarts and his friends. All he could think of was finding out what was through that door. Almost of their own volition, his feet jerked forward, first one, then a second, halting step.

His third step, the one that would have carried him through the threshold and into the darkness, was halted by an an iron grip on his arm. He found himself yanked back from the entrance, spun about and facing an irate Nicolas Flamel.

"Idiot, _stupid_ child, what in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Flamel half-shouted, half-whispered at him as reality came crashing back into Harry's befuddled mind. "Didn't I just tell you how dark, how evil this place was? And what do you do? Try to go wandering in like it's a Sunday stroll in the park!"

Harry opened his mouth to respond as Flamel's tirade wound down into quiet grumbling, but thought better of it. Wizard or no, the man would probably have him sent to the madhouse if he told Flamel that he thought he heard the voice of a dead snake, or that an abandoned shack had somehow called him to it. Behind him, Harry heard a faint whisper once more, and the muted thump as the door sealed itself shut.

Flamel let out a deep sigh, visibly gathering himself together, and half-knelt, looking Harry in the eye. "Listen to me very carefully, boy... Harry. I owe you a debt for bringing my stone back to me, and I'll not see you killed before I can repay it properly."

Harry resisted the urge to glance back at the door. It still pulled him, but not as strongly as before. "What is this place," he whispered.

"I told you. It's a place of great evil."

"I know, but I mean, _why_? What happened here that could do..." Harry said, trailing off as he found himself unsure of how to put what he was thinking into words properly. He could feel the wrongness of this place in his bones, in his very _soul_, yet it still called him, too. What could possibly have the power- and the raw evil- to corrupt something in such a manner. And why did it affect him so?

Flamel shrugged. "No idea. Frankly, I couldn't care less." He lazily waved his right hand. "See that village over there?" Harry nodded. It looked like a small, sleepy town, identical to so many others dotting the countryside. There was an old looking manor on the hill in the distance, far enough away that Harry could only barely make it out in the pale moonlight. "That old manor up the way has a similar feel to it. Not as strong, but there you have it. Might be the place, could be something that happened long ago." Harry glanced up at the manor once again, but didn't feel any sort of pull- not like he had here. The graveyard just outside the manor, too, seemed to be just a graveyard, as far as Harry could tell.

Flamel grinned suddenly and stood up straight. "Or maybe some idiot wizard woke up something that was better left asleep."

Harry shuddered, and refused to glance back at the door again.

"Now, let's be about our business, shall we? I'm sure you're eager to get back home, and my dear Perenelle will be _very _happy to see me this evening, I'd imagine." Harry nodded, surprised at the sinking feeling in his stomach as Flamel mentioned him getting back home, and reached into his pocket once more, grasping the stone in hand. He staunchly refused to think about Privet Drive, or what he was going to do next. He handed the stone over, mentally bracing for whatever might come.

But Flamel simply took the stone in hand, running a critical eye over it, before nodding in satisfaction and stowing it in his robes. "Thank you, Harry," he said with sincerity, his voice for once not sarcastic or biting. "You have saved mine, and my wife's, lives. Now," he said, his voice again sharp, "you've never said what exactly you expect from me for this."

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, sir. It's yours. I'm just glad you got it back."

"Are you _sure_?" Flamel pressed. "Nothing at all that tickles your fancy?"

A fleeting thought passed Harry's mind, that perhaps he might ask Flamel for a place to stay, but he discarded it quickly. As much as he thought he could learn much from the legendary wizard, he didn't feel comfortable asking him for such a personal favor. Besides, he'd much rather stay with his friends than the irritible old man.

Instead, he chuckled and asked, half-jokingly, "Could you come replace our Potions professor?"

Flamel looked thoughtful. "Well, I did hear your current one's a bit soft. Maybe Albus could hire me on a term to toughen you up a bit..."

He thought Snape was a bit _soft_? Harry decided then and there that Flamel was clearly not right in the head.

Harry shrugged. "Like I said, I just wanted to return it to you. It didn't belong to me."

Flamel simply stared at him, watching him for what seemed like forever, until Harry started to shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Fine, then. I know just the thing for you."

Harry started to shake his head and decline, but he was curious at what this very strange- and almost certainly mad- wizard would consider to be 'just the thing' for Harry.

"Hold out your hand." He hesitated a moment before holding out his hand. Flamel dropped a small, round stone in it.

"Is that... it looks like a bezoar," Harry said. He thought he'd never forget what one looked like after using one to try to save his friend's life just a few weeks earlier. Ernie's advice to always keep one handy came to the forefront of his mind as he regarded the stone in his palm.

Lost in thought, Harry was caught completely off guard when Flamel abruptly grabbed the wrist of his outstretched hand and drew his own hand across Harry's upturned palm. Harry felt a line of fire rip across his hand as blood pooled up around the stone.

"What the-" Harry said, trying to pull out of Flamel's grip. "What did you do that for!" Try as he might, though, he couldn't pry the man's fingers from his wrist.

Flamel's free hand- the one that had just cut Harry's palm- quickly closed Harry's hand around the bezoar. The pain from the cut and the warmth of his blood contrasted oddly with the cold stone in his hand. His heart was racing, and he could almost feel his throbbing hand pulsing along with it.

"And there's your reward," Flamel said suddenly, releasing Harry's hand. Harry, who was still trying to pull away, staggered backwards, nearly falling. He scrambled to find his balance, then drew his wand awkwardly with his uninjured hand.

"What? You cut my hand!" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

"Did I?"

Harry looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "What do you mean, 'did I'? Of course you did! It still... hurts..." Harry trailed off as he glanced towards his still clenched fist. He could still feel the warmth of his blood, and the cold stone, but... no more pain.

Slowly, he opened his hand. The stone- darker, now more of a charcoal grey- sat in his palm, and a faint scar creased the length of his hand. But there was no blood, no cut at all.

When he spoke, Flamel's voice was softer, kinder. "It's attuned to you now, Harry. I'd prepared it when Albus told me he'd lost mine forever, but I knew I didn't have enough time to go through all the steps of making a new one. I wasn't even sure why I started. I suppose it's the nature of all men to rail against death, even- or most especially- when there is no hope."

He once more gazed at Harry, who was still staring at his palm, and the stone it held. "But you, Harry... you brought it back to me. Hope, I mean."

His eyes never left the strange, grey stone that he'd thought was a bezoar. "It was yours..."

"Not the Stone, boy, though I'm glad to have it back. Means I'll get some more time with my lovely wife. But you returning it, not asking for anything in reward... that's impressive. Makes me think there's still some people worth a damn in this world after all."

Harry finally looked back up at Flamel. "So this is..."

"Yes, Harry. It's a Philosopher's Stone. Yours, now, and no one else's."

He said the first thing that came to his mind. "But it doesn't look anything like yours!" Flamel's had been blood red and oddly lovely. Harry's looked more like half-burnt charcoal.

"Of course not, boy. You haven't done anything to it yet."

"So, um, what can it do?" Harry asked, his eyes wandering once more to the stone in his hand.

Flamel shrugged. "You tell me. It's your stone, after all."

"Uh..." Harry frowned at the stone, willing it to do... something. The stone sat there, unhelpfully, and Flamel laughed.

"You'll learn. This isn't some muggle contraption, to show you all its secrets the minute you pick it up. Or maybe you won't learn at all. Most people wouldn't. But the most extraordinary people can find a way to make the journey."

"Er, what journey? Do I, um, have to go somewhere to learn about this, or something?"

He chuckled. "No. Or maybe. Perhaps... yes? It's your stone, Harry. It's only what you make of it. Nothing more, nothing less. It might never be anything more than a grey rock. Or it could outshine even my own."

Harry let out a breath. "But that doesn't make sense!"

Flamel's chuckle became a full laugh. "Then don't worry about it. Just think of it as a nice, potent bezoar, and use it as such."

Harry nodded. He hadn't wanted anything in reward, anyway, and at least this way he wouldn't have to remember to pick up a bezoar next time he was in Diagon Alley.

HP – HP – HP

Once more, Harry felt the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a tube, and found himself deposited in the park he and Flamel had left behind what felt like ages ago. Without so much as a farewell, Flamel turned on his heel and vanished with a pop. Almost unwillingly, he glanced in the direction of his former home. There were a number of blinking lights there, now- the police, Harry thought- and Harry decided he'd best get some more distance between himself and Privet Drive.

Hedwig still hadn't returned, either, and for the first time Harry truly felt the gravity of the situation. Unconciously, he gripped his wand, glad to have returned Flamel's to him before the man's departure. He wasn't sure where to go next, so he just started walking. He kept up a rapid pace for a short while, but before long the warm, moist air and his own unease took their toll, and his walk became more of a listless shuffle that led him vaguely away from Privet Drive and Little Whinging.

He wasn't sure how long he'd walked, or how far, before he heard the familiar bark of his owl. He turned just as she landed on a nearby low-hanging branch. His fatigue and unease both vanished as he laid eyes on the small bit of parchment attached to her leg. _A letter!_ Harry thought, and with a grin he rushed over to Hedwig.

"You are the most brilliant owl ever!" he said fervently as Hedwig held her leg out to him so he could claim the note. "'Harry,'" he read aloud for Hedwig's benefit, "'Of course you're welcome to stay with us. Mum said that Dad was already out at your house- he's in Accidental Magic Reversal- so just find him and he'll bring you to us. See you soon.' Bugger," Harry swore. He felt the elation he'd just experienced vanish faster than a chocolate frog in the boys' dorm. How was he to get to Susan's now? He was sure that there was no way her father would still be at Privet Drive by the time he walked back.

Annoyed, he kicked at the dirt, sending a few small stones skidding. One of them plopped into a puddle, making a noise not unlike the one Flamel had made when he vanished...

"That's it!" Harry shouted suddenly, startling Hedwig into flight. She landed on a higher branch, barking at him reproachfully. "I'll just do what Flamel did. He didn't use a wand, so I bet there's no incantation or anything. You can fly there, and I can just, what did he call it? Apparate?"

Harry frowned as he considered this. "In fact, I think I did it once, too. I wound up on top of the roof. I just need to..." Harry took a deep breath, and turned.

Nothing happened.

His face tightened in concentration and he closed his eyes, thinking very hard about the Bones residence, _willing _himself there. He brought to the fore his memory of the unpleasant squeezing sensation, willing that to come to him as well.

He turned in place once more.

"Harry!" Susan's voice washed away all the weariness, all the worry he'd felt that night. He made it. Harry opened his eyes and grinned. He was in the hallway of the Bones residence, just outside the room he'd used over the winter holidays. Susan was standing in the doorway leading to the toilet, staring at him in shock.

"Harry," she said again, this time much more slowly, "what happened to your arm!"

His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. "What do you mean?"

Then the pain hit, and Harry heard someone scream.

HP – HP – HP

"What were you thinking, Harry?" Susan's father said as as her mother brought him a cup of tea the following morning. The entire Bones family- plus guest- were seated at the table for breakfast. Susan was steadfastly refusing to speak to him after the previous night's excitement, which annoyed Harry to no end. How was he supposed to know apparating was so dangerous?

"Let it be," Mrs. Bones said midly. "You've gotten his arm reattached, and I don't think Harry's going to do that again. Will you, Harry?" she asked firmly.

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, Mrs. Bones, definitely not!" He meant it, too. It was the worst feeling in the world, glancing down at his arm and seeing _nothing there_ below the elbow. It was painful, too, of course- he'd lost his arm, after all- but the pain was nothing compared to the shock he felt. No, Harry was definitely _not _going to try apparating again anytime soon. He was just grateful that Mr. Bones was trained in limb reattachment. Apparently, inexperienced or distracted apparaters could sometimes leave bits of themselves behind, and part of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad's responsibilities involved reattaching parts lost after a botched apparation.

Susan's annoyed 'hmph' brought Harry out of his musing. He still wasn't sure who'd screamed loudest- Harry, after seeing his missing arm, or Susan, when the stump began to bleed on the floor. Fortunately, Mrs. Bones had heard the sharp crack of Harry's apparition and had come upstairs. She'd been conveniently on hand to keep him from bleeding out.

"I still think a visit to St. Mungo's might not be a bad idea. You still lost a fair bit of blood." Mr. Bones said.

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, really, sir. Mrs. Bones got to me right away, and you did a great job, um, putting everything back."

Susan 'hmphed' again, and Mrs. Bones turned to face her daughter. "Let up, Suse. It was an honest mistake, one I don't think your friend will be making again." Harry shook his head again, just to confirm that no, he would not be. "Do you really want to stay mad at your friend the entire time he's here?"

A crack appeared in Susan's forbidding façade. "Maybe just part of the time," her father said with a smile towards Harry. He winked, and Harry smiled hesitantly back.

"How's Tuesdays and Thursdays, from six to eight?" Mr. Bones pressed. Susan's lips trembled, as though she was trying to work very hard to hold her scowl.

"We should give her Saturday mornings, too. She's always grouchy at school if anyone wakes her up then, so we could sort of mix the two together," Harry said, smiling at Susan, who narrowed her eyes at him.

"Ooh... you two are such _boys_," she said derisively as she stomped away from the table. Mr. Bones started laughing, and Harry joined in a moment later. Mrs. Bones just shook her head, though she was smiling too. Just as he had every day he was there over the winter holidays, Harry thought to himself- _this is what home feels like_.

Most of the day passed in just such a manner- quiet, laid back, and thoroughly enjoyable. Harry _did _have to sit through a lecture from Mrs. Bones about the different kinds of magical travel- the only one of which Harry really could use was the Knight Bus, at least were he to find himself in a similar predicament to last night's. It wasn't all fun and games, though, as later that day, Mr. Bones came home during his workday to get an official statement from Harry regarding what happened the prior night.

"It's a formality," he said as he procured a dicta-quill and parchment. "We need to have it on record so you don't get in trouble for underage magic."

Harry nodded, suddenly nervous. In the rush of activity that followed his destruction of the Dursleys' home, he'd never even considered that he might still be called out for illegal magic use.

Mr. Bones gave him a slight smile. "There's nothing to worry about, Harry. It's already logged as an accidental magic discharge- albeit a very powerful one- so you're not in any trouble. They just need to know exactly what happened, especially as you're old enough that you shouldn't be having too many issues with accidental magic any longer."

Harry still wasn't reassured though. Sure, he wasn't going to be in trouble for the magic itself, but how could explain that he was planning to meet a legendary alchemist in the dark of night to return a lost artifact- one thought destroyed by Dumbledore, and more importantly, Voldemort- and that it was his worry over missing that meeting that had caused him to destroy the door and much of the toilet on the other side of the hall, too?

"I, er, I had to use the loo," he blurted, blushing in embarrassment.

Mr. Bones frowned. "Go on..."

"And, well, the Dursleys... er, well, my door was, um, stuck. And I really had to go, so... well, all of a sudden I felt a rush of magic, and the door was gone. So was the toilet. And this weird light started to surround me. The Dursleys, um, got a bit upset and gave me the boot, and, well, now I'm here," Harry stammered. He really didn't want to let the Dursleys off the hook for locking him in, but wanted even less for word of his life with them to get out. He was well quit of them.

"I see," Mr. Bones said, his brow furrowing in thought. "The Ministry detected a large, unfocused use of magic similar to a blasting hex. It also detected your apparation," he said, fixing Harry with a stern look. "Which I think has been adequately dealt with. Not sure what the light was, though. The Ministry didn't pick that up at all."

Harry shrugged. "It made me tingle a bit, but it didn't seem to do anything else."

"Well, just the same, you should tell Professor Dumbledore about it when you talk to him this evening."

Harry leaned back in surprised. "Huh?"

Mr. Bones nodded, and put the quill and parchment away. "Yes, he's coming by for dinner tonight. He was quite worried about you, you know. He was at your house before the Ministry was, in fact. Never misses a trick, does he? I owled him last night after we'd gotten you fixed up and off to bed, so he'd know you were alright."

"Oh."

"So, he owled back and asked to speak with you this evening. I hope that's not an issue at all?" Mr. Bones asked.

"Er, no, of course not. I was just surprised, is all." Mr. Bones nodded.

"Well, I'd best go and file this, Harry. I'll see you this evening."

Harry found himself torn between feeling relieved that Dumbledore had showed up so quickly, and curious as to how the Headmaster had known to do so in the first place.

Dumbledore turned up for dinner that night, as promised. Susan, who had given up on being upset with Harry after her father's teasing that morning, was visibly nervous throughout the meal, and even her parents seemed a bit out of their comfort zone. Harry could sympathize. Sharing a table with the Headmaster was wholly different from eating in the Great Hall with him.

After the meal- which was the best he'd ever eaten in the Bones household, a statement in and of itself given the high quality of Mr. and Mrs. Bones' cooking- Dumbledore excused himself an Harry.

"Jacob, Laura, the meal was exquisite, and the company even more so. Thank you for having me over," he said, smiling warmly.

"It was our pleasure, Professor," Mrs. Bones said. "It's not often we have such distinguished guests!"

Dumbledore nodded his head in acknowledgment. "You are far too kind to an old man. I hope you will not mind me intruding on your hospitality just a bit more and borrowing young Harry for a few minutes?"

Mr. Bones nodded. "Of course, Professor."

The Headmaster turned his smile towards Susan. "Miss Bones," he said by way of farewell.

"Thank you for coming, Professor," she said quietly.

Harry stood up from the table, excusing himself as well, and followed Dumbledore into the garden.

"Harry, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you safe and sound. I was most concerned when I found you missing from the Dursleys."

"Sorry, Professor, I wasn't trying to worry anyone. Honestly, I didn't think that there'd be anyone coming, and the Dursleys kicked me out, so..."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, quite. Unfortunate, that."

Harry shook his head. "Not really. They never wanted me there, and I'm glad to be gone, sir."

"I know. And you certainly have my apologies for my part in your discomfort there. What is unfortunate is that you have lost the protection the wards afforded you, and likely much of the strength of your mother's sacrifice as well. Sadly, they cannot be rebuilt, even were Petunia willing to take you in once more."

"I didn't mean to... I was just... they'd locked me in. I'm not sorry to be gone, but I didn't mean to destroy the wards, either."

"It was not your fault, Harry," Dumbledore said with a slight smile. "The damage you did was easily repaired, though I'm told the Ministry obliviators earned quite a bit of overtime last night. No, the wards failed because Petunia cast you from her home. The moment you were no longer welcome there, the wards collapsed."

Harry nodded, not exactly understanding, but Dumbledore picked up on his confusion nonetheless. "Magic is a wonderful thing, Harry. Try as we might to quantify it, to explain it, there are many, many things which cannot be controlled, will not be understood. But intent is such a powerful force, Harry, as I am sure you learned to your misfortune last night."

He nodded again. Both his initial escape and his botched apparition had come from pure intent and magic, rather than any specific spell. That was a lesson that Harry could comprehend.

"Sir, when I, um, accidentally destroyed the house, there was this strange light... it sort of surrounded me and melted into me. It felt... odd."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said after an almost imperceptible pause. "I would imagine that that was a result of the wards failing. Though I do wonder exactly which it was..."

"Sir?"

"Just an old man's musings, Harry. Something to investigate at a later date, at any event. Now, though, thought must be given to your future living arrangements."

Harry nodded. "I really like staying with the Bones, sir. But it's only for part of the summer. I didn't ask them about anything else..."

"Nor should you have to, Harry. It is the responsibility of the adults entrusted with your care to make sure that you have a place to call home, not your own to have to find one. As it happens, Laura and Jacob are quite happy to put you up for the summer. However, we still must make more permanent arrangements, do we not?"

Harry felt a warmth suffuse him at the thought that Mr. and Mrs. Bones wanted him, even if just for the summer. He had had much more experience with being accepted, being wanted, over the last year at Hogwarts, but it still never failed to make him happy as few other things could.

Dumbledore smiled at him as though Harry's thoughts were written across his face. "I am quite pleased that you have such caring friends to turn to. Nothing need be decided right now, Harry. What's important is that you have a place to be safe and happy for the time being. We can discuss the future at a later date."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, still basking in the thrill of acceptance.

"Harry, I'm sure you can appreciate what a kindness the Bones family is sharing with you. But it's important that you are also aware of the danger this puts them in."

Harry frowned at that. He was putting Susan and her family in danger?

"The same reasons that I insisted you stay with the Dursleys are still valid today. Those who supported Voldemort, those who still hold true to the beliefs he represented, pose a danger to you and anyone around you. Now," he continued, holding up a hand to forestall any argument, "Jacob and Laura are both aware of the risks, and still wish to welcome you into their home. I will be adding several protections to their house- anti-apparation wards, for one." Dumbledore smiled at this, and Harry sheepishly returned his smile.

Then Dumbledore's expression turned serious. "It is quite likely that your current whereabouts will become publicly known before very long. The wards on Privet Drive kept your general location from being known by those with ill intent, but the Bones residence has no such protections. As such, it is of the utmost importance that you are careful this summer, and listen to Mr. and Mrs. Bones. Also- and I tell you this so that it does not come as a surprise- I should not be surprised if some of Voldemort's old supporters attempt to gain custody of you once it becomes widely known that you are no longer staying with the Dursleys. I will, of course, obstruct such attempts."

"Do you think they might win?" Harry asked, suddenly nervous. He definitely didn't like the thought of some supporter of Voldemort getting ahold of him. The only thing worse, he suspected, would be living with Snape or Malfoy.

"I am certain they will try to. However, there are several families with whom I am acquainted that can stand in and win custody should they be needed. It is a last resort- I would much rather we try to find a home that is mutually agreeable, rather than having me decide on one for you. If it seems as though we must act quickly, I will of course ask for your input."

Harry refrained from saying 'again' when Dumbledore spoke of choosing a home for him without his input.

Dumbledore smiled at him once more. "Now, I believe Laura has made a wonderful dessert, and it would be quite a shame for a growing boy such as yourself to miss out. With luck, I will see you on September first, rather than at the Ministry."

Long after saying his farewells to Dumbledore and eating two pieces of a very tasty pastry, Harry was lying awake in bed, thinking about just how complicated his life seemed to have become overnight. For the first time, he truly knew and appreciated the protection and safety afforded by the Dursleys' home. He sincerely hoped that his choices would not wind up costing Susan and her family dearly.


	18. Girls are Weird

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

* * *

><p>Waking up the following morning to the smell of eggs and toast, rather than the shouts of his uncle, brought a pleased smile to Harry's face. <em>I could get used to this, <em>he thought as he bounded from his bed- _his _bed, if only for awhile, rather than a grudgingly given cast-off. With speed born of youth and enthusiasm, Harry was quickly showered and dressed, and found his way down to the kitchen. He was only briefly surprised to see that it was Mr. Bones, rather than his wife, who was making breakfast, remembering from his last visit that Susan's father cooked just as often, if not more so, than her mother.

"Well, Harry, I can't say I was expecting to see you up quite this early!" he said, half turning towards Harry as the boy came quietly into the kitchen.

"I'm used to being up early, especially in the summer," Harry said, instinctively looking around to see where 'his' place was with the breakfast preparations. He looked at the assortment of floating pans helplessly, not sure that he even _could _help. He doubted the restrictions on underage magic included exemptions for making breakfast, and he'd caused himself quite enough problems with the Ministry this summer already.

Fortunately, Mr. Bones caught onto his plight. He smiled at Harry even as he turned back towards the magical stove. "Tell you what, Harry, if you want to help out, why don't you get the table set. You remember where the silverware is?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the drawer that held most of the silverware as he spoke.

Harry nodded, grateful to be given something to do even as he recalled that he was no longer with Dursleys, and he wasn't expected to cook just about every meal by himself. Still, he was glad to help, and soon the table was set, breakfast was served, and Susan and her mother had both found their way down to the dining room.

Despite an initial feeling of apprehension, Harry found himself quickly falling into the same comfort he'd found when he spent the winter holidays with the Bones family, and was soon joining in with the morning small talk and banter as though he'd never left.

All too soon breakfast was done and the table cleared with a few flicks of Mrs. Bones' wand. Harry strongly suspected that him setting the table was not entirely needed, and was more a courtesy to _him _than because his help was actually, well, helpful. As he went to follow Susan to their rooms, Mr. Bones' voice caught him at the foot of the stairs.

"A moment, please, Harry," he said, motioning Harry towards one of the comfortable couches that the family often used when listening to the wireless.

Harry nodded, hesitantly following his friend's father to the couch, where Mrs. Bones was already seated. Harry felt his apprehension surge. The Bones' serious expression as they all sat down only added to the fear gnawing at his stomach. Were they already wanting to send him away?

Once they were all seated comfortably- or at least, as comfortably as Harry could be with visions of being cast out of the Bones residence dancing in his head- Mrs. Bones spoke.

"Harry, while you're staying with us, Jacob and I wanted to establish a few ground rules," she said, glancing at her husband. His nervousness subsided on hearing those words. They weren't sending him away!

Mr. Bones took up where his wife left off, giving Harry a comforting smile. "It's nothing too bad, Harry. Just a few things to make sure everything goes smoothly while you're staying with us. Dumbledore already spoke with you about, er... you know..." he said, trailing off. Harry frowned, thinking back to the prior night when he'd spoken with the Headmaster.

"What Jacob means to ask is, did Dumbledore talk to you about, well, staying safe?" Mrs. Bones said as her husband sought out exactly how to put it.

Harry nodded, relief evident as he realized what she was talking about it. "Yes, ma'am. He told me how important it is to listen to you and Mr. Bones, and that, um, there might be problems with some of Voldemort's supporters," he said, not really paying any mind to the winces of both Bones parents. He knew that doubting their bravery in light of taking him into their home, even if the name Voldemort still caused a reaction, was silly.

Mr. Bones cleared his throat. "Yes, quite. Now, Laura and I both have work during the days, as does Amelia, of course, so you and Susan will have a fair bit of time alone. I understand Susan has already made plans to spend time with friends during some of those days. She's going to floo them to see if you can be included, but I don't think that will be a problem." He nodded to himself, obviously considering that matter dealt with. "Now, on those days that you and Susan are home by yourselves, the house will be, well, for lack of a better phrase, locked down." He smiled at Harry's look of confusion. "We'll have the wards turned up all the way. No one in, not even through the floo."

"Or out," Mrs. Bones added. "At least not past the garden. I'm sure you've both got plenty of summer assignments to work on, and there'll be a list of weekly chores for each of you. Just some housework to help Jacob and I out."

Harry just nodded, not really surprised by this. He couldn't really imagine a summer _without _doing loads of chores, and he wasn't sure what he'd do with his time without them.

Both Bones parents seemed taken aback by Harry's lack of complaint. "It's nothing much, keeping your rooms clean, helping out a bit in the garden and around the house," Mrs. Bones said. "We didn't really want to burden you, but it wouldn't be fair to Susan if she still had to do her chores and you didn't have to help at all."

He smiled, realizing that they were more uncomfortable asking him to do the chores than he was doing them. "It's okay, really, I'm glad to help. Besides, they go by faster with someone helping, don't they?"

Mr. Bones smiled warmly, shaking his head. "Hufflepuff through and through, eh Harry?"

Harry just nodded, feeling a surge of pride in his house. No matter what others at Hogwarts might have thought, Hufflepuff really was a great house.

HP – HP – HP

Surprisingly, at least to Harry, there were no chores left for them for the first week of Harry's stay. "They want us to get our school work done first," Susan had explained when he'd asked about what they were to do. He'd already started on his while at Privet Drive, and was very surprised to find that Susan hadn't even begun on hers.

"It's potions," Susan said, rolling her eyes when Harry pulled his half-finished essay and started working on it after lunch the first day. "I was going to wait until we went to Ernie's, and have him pitch in."

"We're going to Ernie's?" Harry asked, his essay immediately forgotten.

Susan rolled her eyes. "Of course we are! Didn't mum and dad tell you we'd be spending days out at friends' places?" He nodded, remembering Mr. Bones' comment from that morning, but still surprised that Susan had acted so quickly to get him added to her visits. "Good. I've already got things sorted out with Ernie, Hannah, and Megan. Justin doesn't have a floo, so we'll have to wait on the post. Probably know this evening," she said offhandedly, shrugging.

"That reminds me," he said slowly, thinking back to the night he'd almost lost his letter from Flamel, "is there anything you know of that might go after a post owl? Something tried to get a letter from Hedwig a couple nights ago."

"Well, post owls are still owls, even if smarter than the usual bird. Anything that might attack a regular owl could go for a post owl, too. Is this about your weird letters asking us if we were going to write you back? Everyone did, you know."

He nodded. "Yeah. I was wondering why I hadn't heard back from anyone this summer. But something tried to get Hedwig the other night, so I'm wondering if maybe whatever it was had gotten ahold of the other letters."

"The letters themselves? Not the post owls?" Susan furrowed her brow and frowned, thinking carefully. "What would go after the letters but not the owls? That's pretty strange, Harry."

Harry just sighed. "I'm starting to think 'pretty strange' is pretty much normal for me."

Susan's laughter filled the room. "Don't worry, you didn't miss much. Hannah and Justin's parents signed a betrothal contract, Megan's a werewolf, and Sally-Anne ran off with gypsies."

His rolled eyes only made her laugh harder. "You forgot Ernie," he said, finally giving in to a smile.

Susan didn't even miss a beat when she quipped, "I definitely try to."

The rest of the week passed by in much the same manner. He and Susan found ways to occupy themselves despite being essentially trapped in the house. For all that Susan had complained about wanting to wait until Ernie could help them with potions, all of their summer assignments were done by the weekend, and Harry had even done a bit of reading ahead, forcing himself to study a bit extra in his weaker subjects. He found the extra hours he'd suddenly inherited by no longer doing all the chores at the Dursley's surprisingly easy to fill, especially with a friend to keep him company.

The next week brought the first of what Harry hoped would be many visits to his and Susan's friends. Sally-Anne, though not as close to Harry as Ernie, Justin, and the rest, was still a friend, and had in fact not run off with gypsies as Susan had jokingly claimed.

They'd been dropped off by something called the Knight Bus, which Harry very quickly decided was likely the unholy union of a Gringotts cart and apparation gone wrong. Harry was not looking forward to the return trip, but as Susan had pointed out halfway through the trip, it was the only way for an underage witch or wizard to get around. Legally, at least.

Sally-Anne's house was very much like what Harry thought Number Four Privet Drive would have been like if the Dursleys weren't, well, the Dursleys. It was a modest two-story home in an entirely muggle neighborhood- not surprising, given that Sally-Anne was muggleborn- with a well-kept yard and small garden. A single car sat in the driveway, gleaming as though freshly washed, and a trio of bicycles- one in the brightest pink he'd ever seen- were propped up against the side of the house, secured together with a single chain.

"Hi Susan!" came the warm greeting as soon as they'd reached the front door. Sally-Anne was a bit taller than Harry had remembered, and was wearing glasses not unlike his own. She pulled Susan into a brief hug, before turning her smile towards Harry. She took a half step towards him before catching herself, and instead stepped aside to the let the pair in.

"Hello Harry," she said as she shut the door behind them. An awkward silence followed as the pair took off their shoes and set them neatly to the side. "So. Um. This is my house," she said, gesturing vaguely behind her. Silence followed, and her eyes sought out Susan's in a silent plea that Harry couldn't help but notice.

"So, er... glasses, Sally-Anne? When did you get those?" Susan asked, in a clear attempt to make conversation as the three of them made their way into the family room.

"First week back after school," Sally-Anne said as she situated herself on a particularly comfortable-looking armchair while Harry and Susan moved some throw pillows from the couch. "Apparently," she drawled, adopting a very put-upon look, "all those hours reading by wandlight wasn't very good for my eyes. And mum didn't want me to get contacts, so... glasses. I've only had them a couple weeks and I already can't stand them. Er, not that there's anything wrong with glasses," she added hastily, glancing uncomfortably at Harry. "It's just that, um, they're not for me. They're fine on you."

Susan laughed, prompting Sally-Anne to throw one of the discarded pillows at her. Susan retaliated immediately- by throwing the pillow at Harry, and a full-blown pillow war erupted, somehow pitting Harry against both girls. Soon all three children were on the ground, laughter filling the once-quiet house.

The visit was much more comfortable for everyone after that, and before Harry knew it, he and Susan were saying their farewells to Sally-Anne and riding the dreaded Knight Bus back to Susan's home.

"So, um, what was that about, with Sally-Anne?" Harry asked without preamble when they arrived.

"What was what," Susan asked, sounding distracted as the pair made their way upstairs.

"I dunno... she was being, well, kind of weird when we got there, wasn't she?"

Susan rolled her eyes towards him, gazing at him with what Harry had privately labelled the 'you're being thick' look. "Well, of course she was. She's never had a boy over her house before. Especially not _Harry Potter_," she said, sing-songing his name.

Harry felt his cheeks heating at her exaggerated expression, and spluttered, "What's that got to do with anything? We just got done living at school together for close to a year."

Susan giggled and shook her head. "It's just different, okay? I'll tell you when you're older!"

Harry decided that he wasn't going to speak to her anymore until she began making sense.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Too-long AN_**- I apologize for the absurdly long wait for the too-short chapter. This was probably the hardest chapter for me to write to date- I just couldn't find a way to write what I wanted to, how I wanted it. I had planned for there to be much more here, but kept deleting it because I didn't care for how it flowed or fit. Specifically, I had planned for a lot more to happen with Sally-Anne, more interaction and such, but couldn't make it work the way I wanted it to. Rather than spend _another _year on and off trying to tinker with this, I just decided to post it in a streamlined format- it makes for a much shorter chapter, but at least it _exists_ now. Part of me wanted to cut the whole thing, but Sally-Anne does play a somewhat important role in things to come and I really needed to include this stuff. For those of you who have been following and waiting patiently for more updates, I thank you so very much, and apologize for the brevity of this chapter. I'm hoping that, with the Sally-Anne scene out of the way, I can actually get this thing in gear again. If I can figure out a way to put more in that I'd wanted to, I might revisit this chapter and put it in, but the things that relate to future plot stuff are in place with what's already here.


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